Mission: Iraq
by Tailhooked
Summary: Chapter 12 is up. Escape from Scotland and meet some strange characters from the past. R&R. Reread the whole story over the long week-end.
1. Chapter 1 Mission Proposed

Disclaimer: The JAG characters are not my property. I thank the people who did create them.  
Mission: Iraq  
  
Chapter One Mission: Proposed  
Jag FanFic  
  
23 February 2003  
  
1300 Zulu  
  
JAG Falls Church, VA  
  
Tiner: Admiral, Mr. Webb is here to see you, sir.  
  
Admiral: Send him in. (Aside) What a way to start my week!  
  
Webb: Admiral, I have got a project that I need Rabb and MacKenzie for. The details are rather unconventional so I thought I'd brief you first. Upon your consent, I will approach the Commander and the Colonel.  
  
Admiral: I am disinclined to loan you two of my senior staff, but I'm listening.  
  
1500 Zulu  
  
RABB'S OFFICE  
  
Tiner approaches as Rabb and MacKenzie are going over the facts of an UA case of a Marine in Kuwait's Tent City .  
Tiner: Commander, Colonel, the Admiral would like to see you asap.  
  
Mac: Thank you, Tiner. Let's go, Harm, we've been summoned.  
  
ADMIRAL'S OFFICE  
  
Rabb: Morning, sir.  
  
Admiral: Have a seat, Rabb. Colonel, please. ( Webb appears from behind the door and stands behind the Admiral's desk.)  
  
Rabb, smiling: Good morning to you, too, Mr. Webb. Sneaking surreptitiously around JAG to see if you can scare up any spies?  
  
Webb: Rabb, the agency has a project in Iraq that we'd like you and Mac to help us with. As we set up the new provisional government there, we're going to need some military experts to serve as legal attaches.  
  
Mac: It shouldn't be too difficult to find some junior level officers if you want us to recommend some people.  
  
Webb: Well, we do not want just any JAG lawyers. We're looking for someone who isn't just limited to legal advice. We'd like people who can think out of the box and be discreet about it.  
  
Mac: Well, the Commander failed kindergarten for coloring outside the lines, maybe if you let him fly F-14's, he'll go.  
  
Webb: Actually, Colonel, we're interested with someone with language skills as well.  
  
Rabb: Mac, being Miss Quintlingual just moved you to the head of the class!  
  
Webb: Actually, we want you both. Before you say more, I'll give you a brief description of what you'd be doing. After you give your consent to go on the mission, I'll give you the full picture. Mac, we'll want you to travel between Basra and the embassy in Baghdad under the cover of military legal attaché to the Ambassador. Harm, you'll be in Basra advising the Navy and Marine commands centered there. We chose Basra because much of what enters Iraq enters through their only port. We've got a good handle on the airports and border cities up north to keep an eye on people coming in through Turkey and Syria. Besides, we have no excuse to station you there. The length of the mission is two months to a year, depending on what we see.  
  
Rabb: What are you looking for?  
  
Webb: That's in the full briefing, but I can tell you that we are not happy with the amount of Russian weapons we found during the war. We're also watching France, Germany, Pakistani fringe groups, and any strange deal North Korea may try to make. We're still concerned with the various terrorist links from the Middle East. Constructing a democracy in the middle of warring tribal Muslim groups is not a small task. We need people on the ground listening and getting a feel for what's going on.  
  
Mac: A year? That's a long time for us to be away from JAG. Admiral, how does that affect us here?  
  
Admiral: The Pentagon has authorized me to pull officers from the various regions to fill your shoes. When you return, you would both still be senior JAG lawyers. I'd probably pull Commander Turner to be my temporary staff administrator, assuming that you would be willing to go. Two hours ago, I told Webb that I didn't want to spare you, and I don't. However, given the full picture that Webb provided me with, I can understand how the agency would want you two for this particular mission and its..nuances.  
  
Mac: When would we have to leave, sir? I've made some commitments to Chloe.  
  
Webb: You'd have to leave on March 29. It's a Sunday. Rabb, you're being uncharacteristically quiet.  
  
Rabb: I'm thinking about how many more of these wild goose, get my six shot at, cases you're going to send me on.  
  
Webb: Does that mean you're going?  
  
Rabb: Webb, I'm turning forty this year, so I'm thinking that this ought to be it, but, yes, I'll go.  
  
Webb: Colonel?  
  
Mac: I'm thinking. Can't I have some time? You can get the Commander up to speed and I'll give you my answer in a few days.  
  
Webb: It's a package deal. If you're not in, the Commander is out too.  
  
Mac: Why?  
  
Webb: I can't tell you that until you've committed to the plan.  
  
Rabb: Next he'll threaten to reveal all and then have to kill you!  
  
Mac: Okay, I'm in. Who can resist nation building with my partner, the hotshot flyboy?  
  
Webb: You're both certain? Because you'll have to sign these contracts and then I'll give you more details on how your lives are going to change. There will be some drastic changes but the agency will change them back after your mission is over. The risk of death is always there when you deal with rogue nations, but we think for the most part you'll be living in the honeymoon period of a new nation.  
  
Admiral (clearing his throat): Interesting word choice.  
  
Rabb: This doesn't affect the people we love? I don't want my mother wondering whether I'm dead or alive for a year.  
  
Webb: No, nothing like that. You'll be able to have visitors once we have the region somewhat stabilized, if you can persuade anyone to visit Iraq.  
  
Rabb: Okay.  
  
Mac: Give me the papers.  
  
Harm and Mac sign the contract. Webb smiles at the Admiral. The admiral slowly shakes his head.  
  
Webb: In a week, there'll be an announcement in the society pages of the Washington Post.announcing your engagement. The wedding will take place on March 28 at the Naval Observatory. In the next month, you will receive training here during the day under the guise of various menial infractions you will be assigned to investigate. We will actually have our operatives training you to use advanced equipment for information gathering. During the evenings, you will be seen actively planning your wedding.shopping for china patterns, etc.  
  
Rabb: Are you kidding me? We're staging a wedding complete with china patterns?  
  
Webb: We're not staging anything, Rabb. You and the Colonel are getting married, legally. The whole world's diplomatic corps is going to be watching this society event unfold. Mac's famous as the TV Jag lawyer. You're famous for crashing hardware worth more than some nation's defense budgets. A few of these diplomats will be allowed to "view" the wedding through their intelligence agencies.  
  
Rabb: Webb, you can't mess with us that way! How can you expect us to carry this off? Why can't we just pose as a married couple or have some quiet wedding or something? You know."Surprise, they got married in Las Vegas!"  
  
Mac: Now there's a lovely thought! Married in Las Vegas by an Elvis impersonator! Commander, your sense of romance is amazing!  
  
Rabb: C'mon, Mac. All of our friends and family are going to pack out here to witness a farce.  
  
Webb: Look, you signed on. I admit I left this detail out on purpose. We have to have a married couple, especially in a Muslim culture. We can't explain why you would be sneaking into each other's bedrooms with Iraqi servants lurking around. I told you we'd undo whatever we'd done after the mission.  
  
Admiral: May I interrupt, Webb? Rabb, you've been on my staff for eight years. Colonel, you've been here for seven years. You two have a more.well, intimate may not be the best choice of words, but I can't think of a more descriptive one now.relationship than many married people. You may not have had the, shall we say perks, of a marriage but you've certainly maintained a deep and abiding commitment to each other through times of danger, heartache, and tragedy. Many marriages breakup when they hit those same rocks. Who knows? In a year, you might not want Webb to undo anything.  
  
Mac: Admiral!  
  
Admiral: Colonel, if I had a nickel for every time someone who has worked or passed through this office has speculated on the nature of your relationship with the Commander, I'd be a wealthy man, retired from the Navy, and doing summer stock Shakespeare productions.  
  
Rabb: I.I need some time. I mean, I need to take care of something first. Can we hold off on any formal announcements until Wednesday?  
  
Mac: Scared, Harm? Going off to find a plane that needs delivery to some remote station? That'll keep you safe from the strong matrimonial arms.  
  
Rabb: If that's what you want to think, Colonel. I'll be able to tell you at some point, just not now.  
  
Webb: You're not going to mess up this operation because you've got some girl in some port that you have to break the news to, are you?  
  
Rabb: NO!  
  
Webb: Rabb, if you leak this to anyone, I mean ANYONE, you could blow things up in Iraq.  
  
Rabb: I'm not telling anyone anything about this mission.  
  
Webb: I don't trust you on this.  
  
Admiral: Webb, the Commander obviously has something on his mind. If he's willing to take me into his confidence on it, and I determine that it won't jeopardize your mission, can you give him until Wednesday?  
  
Webb: Rabb? Will you tell the Admiral exactly what you're doing, not leaving out any details?  
  
Mac: Wait! What about me?  
  
Admiral and Rabb (at the same time): Mac, don't you trust me?  
  
Mac, smiling: Admiral, always. Harm, does this involve flying?  
  
Rabb: It could, but if you'll feel better, it won't.  
  
Mac: Okay.  
  
Webb: Colonel, we'll start working with you right away. Commander, Wednesday morning, I'll expect you to be ready to go. Mac, let's go into your office to discuss some appointments I'll be making for you, dress shops, caterers, etc. Admiral, call me when you've finished with Rabb.  
  
Admiral: Can do, Webb.  
  
MAC AND WEBB LEAVE THE ADMIRAL AND RABB ALONE. Soon Rabb leaves the Admiral's office, the Admiral tells Tiner to send Webb back in. As he turns to go back into his office, the Admiral smiles and shakes his head.  
  
Harm leaves the Admiral's office, passes Webb in the hall, sticks his head in Mac's office and says, "Hey, Marine, if you don't have plans for dinner tomorrow night."  
  
Mac: You'll be back by then?  
  
Harm: I plan to. Anyway, would you have dinner with me?  
  
Mac: Where?  
  
Harm, smiling: I think I'll make that a surprise.  
  
Mac: Harm! Okay, I don't have time for your adolescent banter right now. How dressy?  
  
Harm: Like you'd dress for a dinner date. Dress, heels, whatever. It's not formal but it's not pizza and a beer dress either.  
  
Mac: What time?  
  
Harm: 18:30. I'll pick you up.  
  
Mac: Harm, are we making a mistake with this mission?  
  
Harm: Mac, it's a mission. I'm not sure how it's all going to affect us, but the Admiral made some sense. If anyone can carry it off, we can. Anyway, we can talk about that tomorrow night. I need to run.  
  
Mac: Good luck on your mystery mission, Flyboy.  
  
Harm grabs his cover, briefcase, topcoat, and enters the elevator. From his pocket he reaches for his cellphone, dials, and says: Hi, it's Harm. I need to see you so I'm coming up. (pause) No, I'm driving. We'll plan on dinner. (pause) No, I'm bringing my toothbrush. (pause) I can't wait either. I love you too.  
2100 ZULU  
  
Mac's Office JAG HEADQUARTERS  
  
Harriet delivers a stack of files to Mac.  
  
Mac: Thanks, Harriet. These will keep me busy for awhile.  
  
Harriet: Where's the Commander and why isn't he helping you?  
  
Mac: Uh, he's off on some mysterious leave. Only the Admiral knows for sure what it's about. He'll be back tomorrow night; we're having dinner.  
  
Harriet: Really? Where are you going?  
  
Mac: That's the big secret, but I'm supposed to dress up, but not formal. Any suggestions? You're pretty good with that stuff.  
  
Harriet: Hmm. Okay, I'd say that you should wear a cocktail dress, sheer hose, and heels. Stay away from black, though. That can be a little too formal. Mac, is this a date?  
  
Mac: Well, how can it be? It's Harm! Maybe I should go shopping.  
  
Harriet: Mac, I just saw a champagne colored silk dress at Lord & Taylor.  
  
Mac: Harriet, do you think Bud would keep AJ and you and I could run over there after work? I just don't have the energy for a major shopping expedition, but I value your taste.  
  
Harriet: Mac, a girls' night out! I'm on my way to the big man now to ask him if he'd mind! We can catch a bite while we're out.  
  
Mac: Make it someplace with good beef.who knows what kind of health food Harm will have me munching tomorrow!  
Tuesday, 24 February 2003  
  
Mac's Apartment Georgetown  
  
ZULU 2120  
  
Mac is getting ready, putting makeup on, hair in electric rollers, wearing a ratty, oversized robe. The doorbell rings.  
  
Mac (to herself): Who could be at my door? Harm is going to be here in 10 minutes; of course, he will be late. She marches to the door, flings it open, and finds Harm standing there with a bouquet of calla lilies. He is wearing a charcoal gray suit, a royal blue shirt, and a yellow and blue tie.  
  
Mac: Ah.Harm! You're early!  
  
Harm: And you've never looked lovelier! New dress?  
  
Mac: Well....um, I'm almost ready here. Just give me ten.um, you can wait in here if you'd like.  
  
Harm hands her the flowers and says: These are for you. If you've got a vase, I'll put them in water while you finish.  
  
Mac: Flowers, for me! Thanks, that's really thoughtful of you..you're not Palmer impersonating Harm are you?  
  
Harm: You want to pinch me to see?  
  
Mac: Nah.I'll figure it out by the end of the evening..the restaurant's food choices will give you away!  
  
Mac disappears into her bedroom. Rabb rummages through the kitchen cupboards, finds a vase, fills it, and awkwardly stuffs the lilies in it. He places the vase in the center of the table, stands back, rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He sits down on the couch and calls to Mac.  
  
Harm: Did I miss anything at the office today?  
  
Mac: No, not too much. Bud won his court case on the dereliction of duty defense for that Marine in Okinawa. The admiral was with Webb for a couple of hours this morning, then went to the Pentagon for the rest of the day. Tiner found reasons to bump into Petty Officer Coates as often as possible. Sturgis was out on an investigation all day. Harriet nagged me about what you and I were doing tonight.  
  
Harm: Harriet? Why does she know about tonight?  
  
Mac: Well, you got me all flustered about what to wear, so I asked her advice and the next thing I knew she and I were at a mall in Alexandria shopping until we dropped last night. Actually, we had dinner and then she helped me pick out this dress..(changesvoice into an exaggerated southern drawl) She done her society upbringing proud!  
  
Mac walks back into the living room wearing a champagne colored silk chemise with a wide bateau neckline. The effect screamed classic sophistication.  
  
Mac spins around: So.how'd we do?  
  
Harm (swallows): Wow.you look great.maybe you could persuade the top Marine Brass to lose the Olive uniforms and substitute that dress.it'd give new meaning to "The few, the proud.". Of course, I was rather partial to that hot number you were wearing when you came to the door..  
  
Mac playfully swats at Harm's arm and reaches for a black wool cape that she has thrown over the back of the couch.  
  
Harm grabs the cape, and says: Let me help you with that. You ready?  
  
Mac: Starved! I hope you're not taking me too far.  
  
Harm: Mac.Beltway Burgers is just down the street!  
  
Mac: Harmon Rabb, I intend to get some mileage out of this dress.it will not be Beltway Burgers. (pause) Is it possible that you and I are leaving on time?  
  
Harm: What's the big deal? I've got timing!!  
  
Mac: We're not dancing are we?  
  
Harm: Never know!  
  
2400 ZULU  
  
Country Inn in rural Fairfax County. Setting: Table near a fireplace in a stone manor house. The table is completely set in white linens, white china with a platinum band. A brandy snifter with an arrangement of white roses and gardenias is in the center of the table. There are other rooms of the restaurant filled with people at tables, but the other tables in this room are empty. The maitre'd shows the couple to their table. The waiter asks Harm if he wants the wine now or with dinner.  
  
Harm: Just bring it now.  
  
The waiter returns, opens the bottle at the table, has Harm taste it, and then pours two glasses. He turns to leave.  
  
Harm: This is okay. I had it sent from a California winery. It's their best quality non-alcoholic wine.  
  
Mac: Really? You're a nice guy, no matter what everyone at JAG says! I wonder why this room is so empty. It's much nicer than the other two rooms and they are full. Maybe they are expecting a party in here later or something.  
  
Harm: I don't think so.  
  
Mac: Now how would you know the restaurant's plans for this room? You've been hanging with Webb too long!  
  
Harm interrupts her: I booked this room. I wanted to talk to you privately.  
  
Mac: Does that mean I'm to be taken your confidence about your mysterious thirty-six hour disappearance?  
  
The waiter approaches. The two order - filet mignon for Mac; pasta with grilled fresh tuna for Harm.  
  
Mac: Okay, where did you go?  
  
Harm: Sorry, that's classified.  
  
Mac: Okay, then tell me why we need to be alone in a room. There's nobody to appreciate Harriet's expensive taste in my new dress!  
  
Harm: I'm appreciating it enough for a battalion.  
  
Mac, leaning in: Harm, are you flirting with me?  
  
Harm: No, I'm telling the truth.  
  
Mac (in the mock accent of a southern belle): Why my dear Mr. Rabb, you do know how to turn a girl's head!  
  
Harm: I'm not interested in girls, just one Marine.  
  
Mac: Thanks, Harm. . You know, you look pretty spiffy yourself tonight. I don't think I've seen you wear that suit before.  
  
Harm: You haven't. I just bought it.  
  
Mac, straightens up: Are you leaving the Navy?  
  
Harm: Where did you come up with that idea?  
  
Mac: Well, I'm not sure what this dinner is all about. You've softened me up with flowers, a wonderful setting, and compliments. You're wearing a new suit.an expensive one at that. It's after hours and you're wearing a tie.I figure you're going to finish this one mission, and then take a job with a civilian law firm that represents defense contractors trying to build planes for the Navy.  
  
Harm: You're right about the suit, and you're right about the mission. You are wrong about the career change, although I do have a life change in mind.  
  
Mac: Not another designator change.what's left .submarines? Think you can run silent?  
  
Harm reaches into his pocket and sets a small box on the table between them. Mac stares at the box, which is wrapped in ivory paper with a gold ribbon.  
  
Harm: I actually think it's time for me to stop being silent. You are my best friend in the world. You're the one I go to for advice, professional and personal. You've covered my six more times than I can count. I'm going to be forty years old and I'm tired of being the randy Navy good time guy. I want more from life. I want roots and stability. I want you. Let me finish! I want you as my wife.  
  
Mac looks around: Is Webb going to jump out from behind a wall and yell, "Surprise.you're on Spook Surprise TV?"  
  
Harm: Nope. Webb has no idea about this. I want this to be between us. I don't want his phony staging. I want us to consider this mission, in part, to be permanent. I don't want to play house; I want the house, the mortgage, the leaky faucets, and the leaky kids. Whenever I think of that, I can't think of another woman that I want it with. For seven years, each woman I have dated, or even looked at, eventually I compared to you. Nobody else matches the package. It's kind of like the President.  
  
Mac: George Bush?  
  
Harm: Yeah. Remember when he was looking for a VP candidate and he got Dick Cheney to help him find a good running mate? Pretty soon, he figured out that nobody measured up to the guy in front of him, so he asked Cheney. Now I'm asking you. You want to be my running mate for life?  
  
Mac: I don't know. I love you; is love enough?  
  
Harm: Sarah, the physical attraction part has never been a problem for me. A guy would have to undergo a chromosome count if he weren't attracted to you. Marriage is a commitment, so I think there needs to be a genuine admiration and affection for the rest of the 23 and a half hours of the day.  
  
Mac: You mean 22 and a half, don't you? (Smiles flirtatiously) If I ask to think about it, can I still open the box?  
  
Harm: You're not stringing me along like you did Brumby..ten months of him mooning around. Tell you what.you can look, but you can't touch until you commit.  
  
Mac: I love opening presents.okay. (Mac unwraps the box, opens it, and reveals a yellow gold ring with a diamond solitaire flanked by two sapphire trilliants and emerald baguettes at the base of the sapphires.) Wow! This is gorgeous, Harm. It's the most exquisite ring I've ever seen.  
  
Harm: The diamond was the one my father gave my mother. She gave it to me years ago and I gave it to my grandmother to keep for me. I had it reset for you. You can get this stuff done pretty fast in small town jewelers. The sapphires are for the Navy and the emeralds are for the Corps. I guess the stones sum up our relationship. The diamond has a mineral hardness of 10.I think marriage takes a certain amount of toughness and I think we both have it. At the end of the day, we keep coming back to each other.there's something enduring about that. Anyway, did I do okay with the gold setting? I waffled back and forth between that and the platinum but thought that the gold matched your uniform better.  
  
Mac: That was, uh, very practical of you, Harm. You did great on the ring. It's just that I'm stunned. You, Mr. Noncommittal, are pressuring me for a commitment.  
  
Harm: I'm not pressuring you. I'll wait. I just don't want to do the phony thing with Webb's phony ring and his script. If you want to do that, we can. I'll play along, but what I want is this.our place, our ring.  
  
Mac: I've never heard an engagement ring referred to as "ours" before.  
  
Harm: That's because you can wear the ring on the outside.there's another ring that I wear on the inside. It binds my heart.  
  
Mac: That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say. I want to say yes, but I'm so scared.  
  
Harm: I've been fighting the fears for years. When Webb made this suggestion yesterday, I thought that we couldn't do it, we'd ruin the friendship, the rivalry, the chemistry. Then when the Admiral said what he did, for some reason, I thought of my grandparents. I don't remember much about my parents being together.living out the marriage, but I remember my grandparents. They'd sit out on their porch in the evenings, spring to fall, and just rock and talk. Grandpa would rest his arm on the swing behind Grandma and all was right with the world. They'd watch the sun go down. When he was dying, she sat at his bedside and quietly talked to him. Half the time, I don't even think he could hear her, but she still sat and watched the sun go down on their life together. I talked to my other grandma about it last night when we had dinner. She showed me the shallowness of all these other relationships I've been in. She asked me who would leave the biggest void if they evaporated from my life. For so many years, that void was my father being gone. I'm a man; I've lived almost as long as my father lived and I have invested little in others' lives. It's time to stop taking and start giving. I want to give to you; you'll probably have to be a patient teacher, but you're the one I want. When I draw my last breath, yours is the last face I want to see.  
  
Mac: Harmon Rabb, Jr. I'm scared to death about what I'm about to do, but I can't not give this a shot. It'll either be the greatest ride of my life or I'll have a shattered heart, but the pain of not trying it will be far worse than trying. I'll wear your ring.  
  
Harm: I'll put it on. (Tears roll down both of their cheeks as Harm places the ring on Mac's finger and says: Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be.  
  
Mac: Did you just quote Browning?  
  
Harm: My high school English teacher said it might come in handy some day.  
  
Will you marry me?  
  
Mac: This kind of gives new meaning to joint operations, don't you think?  
  
Mac leans across the table and kisses Harm very gently.  
  
Mac: You can read that as a yes.(kisses Harm again.)  
  
Harm: Easy Marine, I'll be taking you flying at 2 G's in no time.  
  
Mac: Promises, promises! Can we skip dessert?  
  
Harm: You're not eating dessert? Tower, I've got the ball!  
0500 ZULU  
  
Mac's apartment Georgetown  
  
Mac and Harm are in a steamy embrace on the couch.  
  
Harm: Listen, before we get too out of control here, I'm going to go home.  
  
Mac: You're not going to stay the night?  
  
Harm: I'm allowing all the self-control the Navy has taught me to speak now, and I'm telling you that I want to wait.  
  
Mac: For what?  
  
Harm: For my wife.  
  
Mac: But that's going to be me.  
  
Harm: But it's not yet.  
  
Mac: So what?  
  
Harm: So, you're different and I want "it" to be different. I want it to be inside the commitment rather than outside the commitment.  
  
Mac: Really?  
  
Harm: Well, as I said, that's what my head wants. The rest of my body is screaming to go for it now. Frank told me one time that there's nothing like making love to your wife. It was during one of those adolescent talks that embarrassed me to death, but the idea has stuck with me for twenty- five years. I don't want to compare you as fiancée versus you as wife.  
  
Mac: Don't worry. I've already got the flannel cowboy jammies and lots of cold cream. I can be an old shoe at will!  
  
Harm: I like old shoes. (He rises to leave. Mac walks him to the door and kisses him.)  
  
Harm: What time is it?  
  
Mac: Zero fifteen, why?  
  
Harm: So this is Wednesday?  
  
Mac: Yep, why?  
  
Harm: Thirty-one days.  
  
Mac: Till what?  
  
Harm: Till you fly with me.  
  
Mac: Can't wait.  
  
Harm: I don't know how I'm going to. Good Night, my love.  
  
25 February 2003  
  
1230 ZULU  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS Falls Church, VA  
  
Mac is sitting in her office. Harriet sticks her head in the door.  
  
Harriet: Morning, ma'am, how was the dinner last night?  
  
Mac: Unforgettable, Harriet.  
  
Harriet: Did the Commander notice your dress?  
  
Mac: Harriet, I think you can be my personal shopper from now on.  
  
Harriet: Really? But, does that mean we can't go together?  
  
Mac: It means that you are an incredible friend.  
  
Harriet: Thanks, Mac. You've been a great friend to me; I'm glad to return the favor. I need to run. The Commander left a voice mail of files he wants pulled from the Archives.  
  
Commander Rabb passes Harriet in the hall.  
  
Rabb: Morning, Lt. Sims.  
  
Harriet: Morning, Sir. Did you have a good time last night?  
  
Rabb: Life changing, Harriet.  
  
Harriet: Really, sir?  
  
Rabb: Better than a tailhook.  
  
Harriet: That must've been some restaurant. Bud and I will have to try it. Our anniversary is coming up.hmmm.  
  
Tiner: Attention on deck.  
  
Admiral: At ease. Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, my office.  
  
Rabb and Mac follow the Admiral to his office  
  
The admiral unfolds the newspaper, pulls out the society section, points to a picture of Mac leaning across the table kissing Harm and says, "Mind explaining this? The caption reads 'Trial TV's Colonel MacKenzie pleads 'No Contest' in a trial of the heart in Fairfax County last night."  
  
Rabb: HOW did anyone get that picture?  
  
Mac: You didn't know anything about this?  
  
Rabb: Of course not. I went to a lot of work to keep last night a secret. Only the Admiral knew.  
  
Admiral: Knew what, Commander?  
  
Rabb: My plans, sir.  
  
Admiral: What I knew was that you needed to drive to Pennsylvania to see your grandmother about something that needed safekeeping before you went on this mission to Iraq. What's that have to do with swapping spit with the Colonel in the newpaper?  
  
Rabb: Well.uh.I thought you understood that I had to retrieve something from my grandmother.  
  
Admiral: Your grandmother had the Colonel?  
  
Rabb: No, my grandmother had the ring, Sir.  
  
Admiral (staring into Rabb's eyes and never looking at Mac): You mean that stunning piece on the third digit of the Colonel's left hand?.. Gotchya!  
  
Mac: How did you see it, sir?  
  
Admiral: They teach you to see it all at Command School. Colonel, may I offer you my best wishes for your happiness, even if it is with this numbskull flyboy?  
  
Turning to Rabb: Commander Rabb, you have pulled off your coup d'etat. I never thought you had the jet propulsion to get the job done.  
  
Rabb: The job won't be done for another thirty-one days, sir. This filly has a tendency to buck when she's led into the stable.  
  
Mac: Now I'm a horse?  
  
Admiral: Has she ever had the right cowboy?  
  
Harm: She has now.  
  
Admiral: Okay, you two, we're going out into that bullpen and make an announcement. Then I'm going to make a large deposit into the gift pool that Harriet has going.  
  
Mac: What pool?  
  
Admiral: Mac, there's been a pool for years on you two. There were values for everything.stolen looks, private conversations, broken relationships, etc. Every time the blinds went down on the windows in one of your offices, it was a ten spot for whoever's day it was. Harriet keeps the calendar. Bud wouldn't allow anyone to bet, against regulations, so Harriet suggested that we accumulate the money into a gift fund for the two of you when and if "it" ever happened.  
  
Raising his voice: People, Commander Rabb has an announcement to make, if I can have your attention.  
  
Rabb: You can make it, sir.  
  
Admiral: You stepped up to the plate last night, Rabb. Hit it out of the ballpark now.  
  
Rabb: You've all been a family to me for these last eight years, and, as such, families are entitled to hear about good news. I have very good news to report to you today, and that is that Colonel MacKenzie and I .um.  
  
Mac (aside): Cat got your tongue, Commander?  
  
Rabb: ..that is, the Colonel has accepted.uh...The Colonel and I are going to.um, Iraq.I mean before we go to Iraq, we're going to  
  
Harriet: MAC, IS THAT AN ENGAGEMENT RING???????  
  
Rabb: .get married.  
  
Mac holds up her hand and wiggles her finger. The Jag Corps staff cheers as Harm and Mac embrace with the Admiral looking on as if he'd arranged the whole thing.  
  
In the shadows, Webb looks down at a ring and says, "Rabb even did this better than the rest of us."  
  
Rabb: Oh my goodness, my mother.she reads the Washington papers. I'd better call her.  
  
Rabb rushes to his office and closes the door. Members of the Jag staff gather around Harriet who tallies the amounts owed.  
  
Admiral to Mac: Are you happy, Mac? You finally got him.  
  
Mac: Sir, I'm scared to death.  
  
Admiral: Why would you be scared? The only thing he's dangerous around is airplanes.  
  
Mac: What if it doesn't work? I'll lose him and I'll lose my best friend.  
  
Admiral: When Tennyson lost his best friend, he wrote the immortal words, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all."  
  
Mac: That wasn't about a woman?  
  
Admiral: No, it was about his best friend who died as a young man. The principle is the same. You have to take the risk. Colonel, has it occurred to you that the greatest couples in human history were married to each other? Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Mary and Joseph, Arthur and Guinevere, Napoleon and Josephine, George and Martha, John and Abigail, Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Madame and Pierre Curie, Bogie and Bacall,.  
  
Mac: What about Tracy and Hepburn?  
  
Admiral: An incredible combination, but once she's gone, what lives on besides some rolls of film? Besides, what fictional couple endures more than Petruchio and Kate?  
  
Mac: Do I really want to be compared to the " Taming of the Shrew"?  
  
Admiral quotes from Act V Scene ii.: "Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life, An awful rule, and right supremacy, And to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy"  
  
Mac: Sweet and happy? Tell that to the Clintons. I think I'd better call Chloe and ask her if she prefers the title flower girl or junior bridesmaid.  
  
END OF CHAPTER 1 


	2. Chapter 2 Mission Planned

DISCLAIMER: JAG characters are the property of CBS, Paramount, and Belarius Productions.  
  
Spoiler: It's not my fault if they are afraid to let their star grow up. My suggestion for the real writers is that they rent " Adam's Rib", the Tracy and Hepburn classic. Follow that rental with "His Gal Friday" with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell. The dialog is unbelievably well written. Chemistry does not end with marriage.  
  
Thanks for the reviews; they were great encouragement. I've been a JAG fan for a short time, but it's been an intense addiction. I've read most things I can find and spent far too much time watching USA reruns. I guess I'm a shipper. I haven't seen anything between Harm or Mac and any other characters that begins to rival the chemistry between the two of them. I'll keep my mind open if a nonshipper can recommend an episode. That being said, Chegwidden gets the best lines of the show. Next time, I may write about him.  
  
CHAPTER TWO: Mission: Planned  
  
26 February 2003 1700 ZULU  
  
Burnett Kitchen La Jolla, California  
  
Frank Burnett: Well, Trish, your dream is finally coming true. Harm's getting married.  
  
Trish: Don't you think it's about time? He'll be forty in October! I was really starting to worry about him.  
  
Frank: Worry about what? It's been obvious for years that he had no problem attracting women!  
  
Trish: But the guy could not sustain a relationship! He's been acting like an adolescent long past the time when he should have given up such childish things. I had been married and widowed by the time I was his age. I had a child to raise without a father. I was lonely and it was tough. I know I wanted to shelter him from the loneliness that I felt, but I wonder if I didn't show him enough of the importance of marriage.  
  
Frank: Well, he's had years to watch us.  
  
Trish: Yes, but while he was still at home, I always held back toward you. I didn't want to fight with you for fear it would fuel his resentment toward you as an outsider. I didn't want to be too passionate toward you for the same reason.  
  
Frank: As I recall, I was not a sorry stepfather when we delivered him to the Academy the summer after his high school graduation. I've loved him for years, honey, but he's never really let me in. Maybe this Mac can break down some of the barriers he built when he lost his father. I know I never was able to.  
  
Trish: Now Frank, your relationship has become much better over the years. Harm seems to enjoy you now.  
  
Frank: Yes, he does, but he still maintains that distance. He doesn't even stay with us when he visits! When he crashed his plane, how long did he stay with us while he was recovering? A couple of lousy weeks! Instead, he ran to his grandmother.  
  
Trish: How do you think I felt? I'm his mother and because I chose not to live the rest of my life in the past and had the audacity to remarry, he couldn't be with me. Don't misunderstand, Frank. You picked me up and helped me rebuild my life as a woman. You've been the essence of patience with me and with my son. We really don't deserve you. You've been the male example that Harm should have imitated. You've been self-sacrificing, generous, and stable. Harm will see that when, and if, he ever becomes a father. When I talked with Sarah this morning, she told me that Harm talked to her at great length about my parents and their relationship. My dad died when Harm was fourteen; I didn't realize that he had noticed so much about their relationship. Of course, until you and I married, what other reference did he have? His father was dead, Harm's dad died in World War II, so none us ever really knew him. Perhaps we should be a little more generous in judging his love for you; you're one of the only men he was ever around.and you're the only one who lived.  
  
Frank: Honey, such a lovely speech before noon! A guy could get used to that! Now, my lovely wife, you need to tell me what plans are being formulated for the next month inside that beautiful head of yours.  
  
Trish: Well, I'd like to just fly to D.C. and stay the month. However, my presence would probably scare my son completely away from the altar. There are some things there that I'd like to take care of in the next week, but then we need to be there the week before the wedding.  
  
Frank: Trish, call the travel agent and book two trips. We'll go tomorrow and stay for several days or a week or however long you think you need to put your imprint on this wedding. Then we'll go out the Monday before the wedding. Don't fly us in coach though. We can afford first class and the food's better. For some reason, people in first class with screaming babies seem to be more apologetic than those in coach too.  
  
Trish: Oh, Frank. Kids often have ear pain on flights. You know, we may actually have some grandchildren one day and they might cry. Is that going to send you into orbit?  
  
Frank: Our grandchildren won't cry. If they have ear pain, I'll buy a motorhome and drive them from coast to coast myself!  
  
Trish: Well, let's actually see if Harm goes through with this first. Do you want to take care of the business end of this? I mean, are you comfortable with talking with Harm?  
  
Frank: The four of us are going to go out to dinner and I'm going to lay it on the line with Harm in front of his Marine lawyer. When he gets his, "I'm not taking any of your money" back up, I'll let her cool him down.  
  
Trish: He may be more reasonable than he has been in the past. He did propose. He had that ring reset for her. I guess it's quite the piece from what Sarah told me. He dropped some money on the resetting too. That's a good sign. I was beginning to think that all his money went into a car and into a plane.  
  
Frank: Well, he did buy his building. You can't just knock out walls in an apartment belonging to someone else.  
  
Trish: I wish I could say that I like the part of town where he lives.  
  
Frank: He'll rethink it if they have children.  
  
Trish: Grandchildren, what a wonderful thought! When you retire, we may want to move to Virginia or Maryland!  
  
Frank: Hold on there, let's get the daughter-in-law before you buy the house next door to your grandchildren.  
  
Trish: Thanks for staying home with me this morning.  
  
Frank: The pleasure was mine. I should be able to tie up all the loose ends by early evening. Do you want to eat out or have something here?  
  
Trish: I need to go to the gallery, so let's meet. Call me by four and give me an e.t.a. and we'll decide where to meet.  
  
Frank: See you later. I love you.  
  
Trish: I love you too.  
1500 ZULU  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VA  
  
Mac is sitting in her office attempting to focus on a demonstration of a listening device that is being demonstrated by a female intelligence officer.  
  
Mac: Julie, thanks so much for taking the time to come out here, but I really don't know when I would need a bug that fastens with adhesive to my bare skin!  
  
Julie: Well, Colonel, you just never know. Perhaps with a formal strapless dress, a bathing suit, or a time when you will not be wearing anything, you would need this.  
  
Mac: At the times when I am naked, bugging someone is NOT what I plan to be thinking about. Can we finish this later? I still have some JAG files to clean up. I just cannot seem to concentrate.  
  
Julie: Well, do not forget that Carol wants to go over the list of caterers with you at 3:00. Tomorrow you need to talk about wedding cakes, napkins, and favors.  
  
Mac: Imagine that! The Marines never prepared me to decide between butter cream and whipped cream frostings! Thanks for coming. See you later. (To her - Don't let the door hit you on the way out!)  
  
Harm appears at Mac's door.  
  
Harm: What's wrong? Webb's wedding planners getting to you?  
  
Mac: Aren't there professionals who do this stuff? I was trained to research Supreme Court cases, not to agonize over the font on wedding invitations.  
  
Harm: There are professionals, and there are people who enjoy doing these things free. One of the latter just happens to be flying in tomorrow afternoon and you would give her great joy if you would ask her to handle some of these details for you.  
  
Mac: Who's Webb bringing in now, Emily Post?  
  
Harm: Almost. My mother.  
  
Mac: Really? When's she coming? Where' s she staying? Do you think she'll like me?  
  
Harm: She'll adore you. She and Frank fly in tomorrow at about 1600. They are staying at a hotel. I don't have room. Besides, we're not the slumber party type family. My marching orders are that we're to have dinner with the two of them. They want to get to know you. My mother wants to help with the wedding plans, and, if I know Frank, he's going to want to put my financial house in order.  
  
Mac: What's wrong with that?  
  
Harm: I don't want his money.  
  
Mac: Why not, he's your stepfather.  
  
Harm: And that word "step" is key.  
  
Mac: He has no other heirs. You're going to end up with all their money anyway, what do you care?  
  
Harm: I don't like to take. I like doing it myself.  
  
Mac: Sometimes, Harm, it takes more graciousness to just say, "Thank you very much. I appreciate your thoughtfulness." That's no sin.  
  
Harm: Wait till he offers to pay for the wedding, so that my mother can get exactly what she wants planning the wedding for the daughter she never had!  
  
Mac: You think they'll do that?  
  
Harm: We'll be lucky if he doesn't offer to buy us a house, so that, "Mac doesn't need to be afraid in your apartment if you're ever out of town." In their generation, women weren't trained to kill, Marine.  
  
Mac: I'm giving them a chance. It's time for new beginnings, Harm. Maybe you should start over with Frank.  
  
Harm: I don't like men who horn in on the women I love.  
  
Mac: Harm! He married your mother almost twenty-five years ago. Lose the Oedipus complex, will you? Are you going to have rivalry with your son?  
  
Harm: Only if you love him more.  
  
Mac: Get thee to a counselor, Harm. You have issues. What time's lunch?  
  
Harm: Oh, I wanted to mention that to you. I think I should have lunch with Sturgis today. I'm going to ask him to be my best man. I really debated about asking Sergei or Bud, but Sturgis and I have more history. What do you think?  
  
Mac: I think it's your choice. Go with your gut. I'm asking Harriet to be my matron of honor. I don't think I'll have any bridesmaids except Chloe.  
  
Harm: Would it be okay with you if I asked Bud to be in charge of an honor guard at the wedding? I don't know how you feel about having a military wedding.  
  
Mac: I guess if I marry a military man, I need to accept some of the traditions. That will be fine.  
  
Harm: I'm going to ask Sergei and Alex to be ushers, unless you think people will think they are KGB spies!  
  
Mac: You've thought this all through, haven't you?  
  
Harm: Not with as much thought as I've given to the honeymoon.  
  
Mac: That's red light talk for the office. I'll see if I can shake Harriet free for lunch today too. Dinner tonight?  
  
Harm: Let's order pizza tonight and get through as much of that stupid wedding planning list Webb sent us as we can. Then when my mother gets here, we will know what decisions we want to make and what she can take care of for us.  
  
Mac: Your place or mine?  
  
Harm: Mine. I need to do laundry while we're at it.  
  
Mac: Now we're really on the marriage track!  
  
1700 ZULU  
  
Diner in Falls Church  
  
Sturgis: Buddy, you surprised me. I didn't know you and Mac were dating.  
  
Harm: We weren't. What's that have to do with marriage?  
  
Sturgis: You mean, you just proposed to her out of the blue.  
  
Harm: Sturgis, I've dated dozens of women, most of them eye candy. Mac is different. She's so much smarter than the rest of them. It's as if she's already a part of me. What's the point of playing games?  
  
Sturgis: Hey, who am I to criticize? We're the same age, buddy. Dinner and a movie does seem a little juvenile at times. So what about chemistry?  
  
Harm: We're waiting for the lab part of the course.  
  
Sturgis: Really? I guess Mac's not going to be your latest girl toy.  
  
Harm: It wasn't her suggestion. It was mine. You know, when I dated Renee, I could tell you about every inch of her body, but when she would open her mouth, sometimes I would find myself thinking, "Who IS this person?" With Mac, it's her mind that I know. She completes my thoughts. Delaying myself the gratification of knowing her body may not be today's norm, but I think it's the right thing to do.  
  
Sturgis: My father would agree with you on that! He's become a fan of this "courting" trend. You don't date until you've located a woman as a matrimonial candidate. Then you ask her parents for their permission to "court" their daughter. They say that dating only teaches you how to break up.  
  
Harm: That's interesting. Mac doesn't exactly have parents that I could ask. She's a little old for that anyway. Sturgis, I've been meaning to ask you if you'd be willing to be my best man.  
  
Sturgis: Harm, I'd be honored. I've known you for more than twenty years, and, for what it's worth, my opinon is that you've saved the best for last when it comes to women. She's the best, Harm, and she adores you. I can't imagine being happier for either of you.  
  
Harm: Thanks, Sturgis. Don't forget to bring a date to the wedding. I'll toss you the garter.  
  
Sturgis: I'm still pursuing the dating game, Harm. Who is doing the ceremony, Harm?  
  
Harm: That's on our list to do tonight. Wait, do you think your dad would be willing to come and marry us? I'd feel comfortable with him.  
  
Sturgis: You would? I should warn you that he's a hardliner on marriage. You'll have to go to premarital counseling and everything.  
  
Harm: Funny, Mac told me today that I'm a headcase and need a counselor. What kind of counseling does he do?  
  
Sturgis: Oh, he works with couples on hot issues that ruin marriages, in- laws, finances, communication,.  
  
Harm: We have all those things. I'll talk to Mac about it. Do you think it helps?  
  
Sturgis: It's hard for me to say, but statistics show that your marriage has a better chance if you've worked through some issues before you get married.  
  
Harm: Okay. I'll try anything once.  
2400 ZULU  
  
Harm's Apartment  
  
North of Union Station  
  
Mac: Harm, can you get me another seltzer while you're in there?  
  
Harm: Sure, but stay out of that veggie side of the pizza; stay with your dead mammal side.  
  
Mac (reading from a list): It says here that the first thing that we must decide is what type of wedding we want, traditional or modern?  
  
Harm: Traditional.  
  
Mac: I agree. Now we move on to formal or informal.  
  
Harm: Formal.  
  
Mac: I agree. Time of day?  
  
Harm: Morning. Let's get it over with. We can be on the honeymoon by 1600.  
  
Mac: Morning? What about evening?  
  
Harm: I don't know, Mac. If it were in the summer, maybe, but Webb said we have to leave by noon on Sunday. I just don't think I want a late night.  
  
Mac: Let's table this. I'll give some thought to morning or early afternoon, since you need your beauty sleep. Next question is food.type of meal. Hmm, we can't decide on that until we decide what time of day.  
  
Harm: Let's give em some cake and shove them out the door.  
  
Mac: No, I want food..and dancing.  
  
Harm: Dancing? How about a string quartet instead? Nice soft music.  
  
Mac: No way, Flyboy. I want some rock 'n roll. I can't wait to see you out there doing that chicken dance and the Macarena.  
  
Harm: The closest I get to flapping my wings is on a plane. I will not chicken dance or bunny hop or electric slide. I would have to consume large amounts of alcohol first. If you want dancing, we'll have dancing. DJ or Band?  
  
Mac: What are the chances of getting a good band on a month's notice? I'd like a band, but I'd rather a good DJ than a lousy band singing, "I can't help falling in love with you."  
  
Harm: How about a Country and Western band? My mother and Frank would just love that.  
  
Mac: Really? I could look into that.  
  
Harm: Sure, Mac. You need to suggest that tomorrow night. You'll really score some points.  
  
Mac: Well, I like some country music, but I'm not sure that's what I want. Of course, if it'll make your parents happy.  
  
Harm: Just suggest it to them. I dare you.  
  
Mac: Okay, now to attire. Are you wearing a tux or dress uniform?  
  
Harm: Dress uniform. How about you?  
  
Mac: Harm! I already have a gown.  
  
Harm: You're not wearing that.  
  
Mac: Why? I've never worn it.  
  
Harm: No. You bought it for someone else. Get a different one. I'll give you the money, but please don't wear that one. I don't want to be reminded that I almost lost you to Mic.  
  
Mac: Harm, how would you know if I wore that dress?  
  
Harm: Mac, burn the dress, give it to a women's shelter, I don't care, but PLEASE choose a different dress.  
  
Mac: A little jealous, aren't you?  
  
Harm: I would say that I'm possessive. I've messed things up so many times between us. I'm working very hard at saying what I mean and meaning what I say. I want this to be new without anything reminding me of the past. That's one reason why I didn't ask Bud to be my best man. He was going to be Mic's best man.  
  
Mac: He did that for me, Harm.  
  
Harm: I know. I just want you to buy a new gown. Ask Harriet or my mother or both to go with you.  
  
Mac: Okay. New dress for Mac. We need to pick out gowns for Harriet and Chloe anyway.  
  
Harm: I'll pay for them.  
  
Mac: Harm, you don't have to do that.  
  
Harm: I want to. Just give me a figure. Five thousand enough?  
  
Mac: For three dresses? I sure hope so.  
  
Harm: Next item.  
  
Mac: Honeymoon.  
  
Harm: My department.  
  
Mac: I get no say?  
  
Harm: Well, Webb takes us on Sunday, so it's not going to be much other than that first night.  
  
Mac: So we'll just rent a room at a hotel.  
  
Harm: What about coming here?  
  
Mac: I think you're supposed to go somewhere where people aren't looking to find you.  
  
Harm: Well, can I plan it?  
  
Mac: Can I have a few surprises for you?  
  
Harm: I'm counting on it. Next item.  
  
Mac: Wedding gifts for each other. Do we want to exchange gifts?  
  
Harm: Yes.  
  
Mac: Why? Isn't that an unnecessary expense?  
  
Harm: Then don't get me one, but I have ideas for yours. I don't want anything other than you.  
  
Mac: I'll mark this item as "more debate needed". Uh oh, I just realized that we were supposed to start with a budget for the whole deal. What's our budget?  
  
Harm: How much do we need? Shouldn't Webb pony up for some of the costs here? Of course, if I let him do that, the Ambassador to Madagascar will be on the guest list. I've got about $25,000 in savings. Do you have any money?  
  
Mac: Of course. I don't have expensive hobbies.  
  
Harm: How much do you have?  
  
Mac: Enough. I'll buy the dresses, your ring, the church rental, flowers, etc. I may not have enough to cover the reception, especially if you insist on haute cuisine.  
  
Harm: Send me a bill. We just won't be buying a farm any time soon.  
  
Mac: A farm?  
  
Harm: It's a little dream I've had. I'd like a place in the country for week-ends. Speaking of which, where are we going to live in town?  
  
Mac: I think we should live here and give up my apartment. You've done so much work on this apartment that I don't want to leave it.  
  
Harm: Thanks, Mac. I appreciate that. Well, we'll save some money on rent, that'll help with buying a house. Since you're willing to move here with me, I think you should choose what kind of place we buy, if we buy.  
  
Mac: Oh, a farm sounds great to me. Do you think we could find something that we could afford?  
  
Rabb: Maybe I'll call that real estate agent that Harriet worked with. We won't need anything until this Iraq deal is over. Do you think we'll draw hazard pay?  
  
Mac: Ask Webb. I've had enough for tonight.  
  
Rabb: Good, let's sit here and neck like a couple of teen-agers. Then you can be the one driving home in an altered state! Tomorrow night, we'll have chaperones.  
  
Mac: Oh, I was thinking about that. Harm, what would you think if I made dinner for you and your parents tomorrow?  
  
Rabb: Sarah, you are an overachiever in almost every area of your life, but the kitchen is not exactly.  
  
Mac: Are you saying I can't cook?  
  
Rabb: No, but why put yourself through the stress of entertaining?  
  
Mac: That's it. You've challenged me and I'm going to cook you and your parents a fabulous meal tomorrow night.  
  
Rabb: Now how are you going to cook for me, when I don't eat meat, and Frank, who only eats meat?  
  
Mac: I'll think of something. I'm an overachiever, remember? In fact, I'm such an overachiever, I'd better get home and rifle through my cookbooks for a recipe to knock your socks off.  
  
Rabb: But I thought we were going to get all steamed up on my couch! You can't leave me here with cold pizza and.  
  
Mac: Oh Harm, you're right. Let me kiss it and make it better. (She leans over, kisses Harm passionately. He leans back on the couch and pulls her toward him.)  
  
Harm: That's more like it.  
  
Mac (pecks him on the top of the head, jumps up, grabs her jacket and purse and walks to the door): Duty calls, Squid. See you in the morning.  
  
27 February 2003  
  
2300 ZULU  
  
Mac's Apartment Georgetown  
  
The table is set with service for four. Harm's calla lilies are arranged in a vase on the coffee table. Mac scurries out of the bedroom toward the kitchen wearing an olive silk blouse and olive slacks. She throws an apron emblazoned with "My food is better than MRE's. Ooo Rah!" on it. She checks her make up in the mirror, enters the kitchen and turns the oven on. She pulls out a roll of foil, arranges a loaf of bread on it, pours olive oil and fresh garlic on it. She opens the refrigerator, unwraps a package of parmesan cheese and grates it over the bread and wraps it with the foil. Someone knocks on the door. She checks her face once more as she passes the mirror and opens the door. Smiling, she says, "Welcome!"  
  
Trish: Mac, I'm so excited to finally meet you. Oh, you're just as pretty as the pictures I've seen. I must say, the television screen doesn't begin to do you justice.  
  
Mac: That's very kind of you, Mrs. Burnett.  
  
Trish: Oh, please, call me Trish.  
  
Frank: And I'm Frank.  
  
Mac: Frank, I'm so happy to meet you. I've heard so much about you both.  
  
Frank: I'll bet you have.  
  
Harm: Hi. (bends to kiss her quickly) Anything I can do to help in the kitchen?  
  
Mac: No, I'll be serving the soup in just a couple of minutes, but dinner will keep. Do you want to sit here or at the table?  
  
Trish: Oh my, look at what a lovely table you set! Your apartment is just charming, Mac, or should I call you Sarah?  
  
Mac: Mac's fine. Most people call me that.  
  
Trish: What lovely callas! There's an Guatemalan artist that I'm trying to exhibit who does calla lilies in oil. Stunning work. How soon do you want to eat, dear?  
  
Mac: Well, we can eat now. Harm, could you open the wine, please, and fill the water glasses. I'll get the soup and put the bread in. Frank and Trish, just make yourselves comfortable.  
  
Mac carries in a soup tureen as Harm carries a wine bottle in one hand and a water pitcher in the other. Mac sits down, indicating that she's ready to begin.  
  
Frank: I'd like to propose a toast, "To our son and his beloved, may this be the beginning of thousands of nights of sharing food and love around a table." They all clink wine glasses except for Mac who raises her water glass.  
  
Mac: Thank you, Frank.  
  
Harm: Thanks, Frank.  
  
Harm: Okay, so what's the soup?  
  
Mac: This is escarole soup. If you'll pass your soup plates, I'll just dip it for you. She takes extra care when she prepares Harm's bowl as she seems to be picking through the soup with the ladle.  
  
Harm: Leaving me out of something?  
  
Mac: No, it's just that there are tiny meatballs in the soup and I'm not giving you any.  
  
They begin to eat.  
  
Frank: Mac, this soup is terrific.  
  
Trish: This is very good. How is it without the meatballs, Harm?  
  
Harm: Surprisingly good.  
  
Mac: Harm was a little nervous about my cooking tonight. Our tastes in food are not very simpatico.  
  
Trish: I don't think his tastes are very simpatico with those of most people.  
  
Frank: I never did figure out when all this vegetarianism started. He sure ate his share of meat when he was a kid.  
  
Trish: When he was little, he went through stages, the hot dog stage, the taco phase. Maybe this is your vegetarian phase, Harm.  
  
Harm: I'm just fine with what I eat.  
  
Trish: I just noticed your ring, Mac. It's stunning. Harmon, I'm impressed.  
  
Harm: Thanks, Mom. I tried to combine the old with the new.  
  
Frank: So, Mac, tell us about yourself. We've only heard Harm's "just the facts" version. How did you happen to join the Marines?  
  
Mac: I had an uncle who was a Marine. He meant a great deal to me as a kid, so I thought I'd stop floundering around and try to have some direction in my life. The Marines are good for that.  
  
Trish: Now I know that your father is dead, but what about your mother?  
  
Mac: I don't stay in contact with my mother.  
  
Trish: Will she be at the wedding?  
  
Mac: I really haven't given it much thought, ma'am.  
  
Harm: Mac, do you want help with the salad?  
  
Mac: No, I'll get it.  
  
Harm and Frank (at the same time): Stay off the subject of her mother!  
  
Mac returns carrying a tray of individual bowls of strawberry spinach salads topped with roasted walnuts.  
  
Mac: I just put the gnocchi on to cook, so I'll need to watch that. Harm, the salad dressing is there in front of you, if you'll start it.  
  
Frank: Good salad, Mac. If the soup and salad are any indication of your culinary prowess, you can cook for me any day.  
  
Mac: You're too kind.  
  
Harm sits with a surprised look on his face.  
  
Trish: So, tell me about the wedding plans.  
  
Frank: Hey Harm, it's a record! Your mother actually waited thirty minutes until she got down to business.  
  
Harm: Well, Mom, the wedding will be at a small chapel out at the Naval Observatory. We're unsure of what time of day. We're having a military wedding with an honor guard. We're having dancing. Sturgis is my best man and Harriet Sims is Mac's matron of honor. Mac has a little sister from a social program who will be her other attendant.  
  
Trish: Who's giving you away?  
  
Mac: I haven't asked him yet, but I assume the Admiral. Harm, I meant to ask you too, should we have AJ be our ring bearer?  
  
Harm: That's fine with me. He's a cute kid.  
  
Trish: Now who would that be?  
  
Harm: That's our godchild, Harriet and Bud's son. He's four. Oh, Mac, I forgot to ask you last night, do you think we should ask Sturgis' dad to perform the ceremony?  
  
Mac: I'd really like that.  
  
Trish: Now will there be other groomsmen? You will need ushers, of course.  
  
Harm: Well, mom, I'm going to ask Sergei and Alex Volkonov to be my ushers.  
  
Trish: Oh.two Russians, that'll be interesting.  
  
Frank: Harm, do you think that's a good idea? Is there a language barrier?  
  
Mac: They both speak perfect English. They are fun people; you'll like them.  
  
Trish: Okay, so what are your sticking points?  
  
Mac: Time of day and honeymoon.  
  
Trish: Well, Frank probably would have some good suggestions on honeymoons. He's taken me on several. What's the problem with time of day?  
  
Harm: I want to get married in the morning. Mac thinks that's a little weird.  
  
Trish: Well, you could get married in the late morning and have a luncheon.  
  
Mac: I want dancing at the reception.  
  
Trish: Well, we can dance at any time, I guess. What about a mid-afternoon wedding, say two-thirty or three thirty, and then dinner and dancing?  
  
Harm: I go for the earlier time.  
  
Mac: That's fine with me.  
  
Trish: Okay, then that's settled.  
  
Mac: Let me get the pasta and sauce. (Mac leaves the dining room).  
  
Frank: Are we having spaghetti? I don't like spaghetti.  
  
Harm: I don't know what we're having but so far, she's done okay.  
  
Mac (returns with pasta): This is gnocchi with a white wine and tomato basil sauce.  
  
Harm: I'll be happy to dish your plates for you.  
  
Frank: That smells wonderful. Heap it up on there, Son.  
  
Harm: Where'd you get the pasta, Mac?  
  
Mac: I made it, dear.  
  
Harm: Really? Oh, I mean, wow, it's really good. I think I'm going to take some lessons from you.  
  
Trish: I think you are going to spend a lifetime taking lessons from this young lady, Harm. Okay, now, what about guests? Frank and I have a list of about a hundred people we want to invite.  
  
Harm: Mom, that's about fifty more than we want to invite.  
  
Frank: Harm, that's one of the things we want to talk to you about. Now your mother and I have attended dozens of weddings of the children of our friends. We'd like to include them on this wedding. We certainly don't expect you to pick up the tab for our guests. In fact, since Mac doesn't really have much family, we'd like to host the whole thing and pay for it.  
  
Harm shoots Mac the "I told you so" look.  
  
Harm: That's not really necessary, Frank. We can afford this.  
  
Frank: That's not the point. Save your money; buy a house.  
  
Trish: Harm, really. Could you just let us do this one small thing?  
  
Mac: That's very generous of you, but we really don't expect.  
  
Harm: One thing? This is the only thing you're asking to do?  
  
Frank: Well, what more is there?  
  
Harm: I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out.  
  
Frank: Okay, Harm. We want to do two things: First, we want to host the wedding. If you think we're too heavy handed, I'll just give you, or Mac, a check that should cover the expenses. Then we won't be overstepping our decision-making boundaries. The second thing is this. Since you entered the Academy, you have refused to take any money from us. Now I understand male pride, but you've trampled on my pride just a little too. When I married your mother, you continued to receive survivor benefits from the Navy. We didn't need the money, so I began investing it to pay for your college. Then you got an appointment to the Academy. Once again, the money wasn't needed, nor was any of the money that we had saved toward your college expenses. Then I thought I could pay for law school when you had your accident. The Navy took care of that too. So, I invested the money with the intention of giving it to you as a wedding gift. To be honest, Harm, you've taken a little longer than most to get to this point, and the account has grown rather large. We insist that you take it now, because we can't wait until you get around to giving us a grandchild.  
  
Harm: Well, we've been talking about buying a place for week-ends, out in the country, maybe a small farm.  
  
Frank, reaching into his pocket: Harm, this is a cashier's check from the bank. I cleaned out the account. The other check is a check for what your mother and I would expect to pay if we were hosting a wedding in California. Please take them both with our best wishes, knowing that we couldn't love you more.  
  
Harm looks at the checks and hands them to Mac.  
  
Mac: Frank, this is a huge amount of money.  
  
Frank: It's Harm's. All I did was invest it. Look, it's no secret that Trish and I are not poor. All that we own will some day be Harm's.  
  
Harm: Frank, I'm not comfortable with this discussion.  
  
Frank: Harm, my greatest hope is that you will have a half-dozen children and I won't leave you a dime. I'll put it all in trust for them. Is that a deal?  
  
Harm: Frank, that's the best deal I've heard all day.  
  
Mac: Thank you Frank and Trish. You have made this a lovely conversation.  
  
Frank: Mac, I can't wait to see what you've done with dessert!  
  
Mac: It's carrot cake.  
  
Harm: Wow! Where'd you get that?  
  
Mac: I made it.  
  
Harm: Really? Overachiever!  
  
Mac: You are just scratching the surface, Flyboy.  
0400 ZULU  
  
Mac's Apartment Georgetown  
  
Mac is putting china away when she hears a knock at the door. She peeks through the peephole and opens the door.  
  
Mac: Harm! I thought you were going home after you took your parents to the hotel.  
  
Harm: Not before I said I told you so, and not before I let you tell me the same thing.  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Harm: I told you he'd want to pay for the wedding, which he is. Then I told you he'd want to buy us a house, which he did.  
  
Mac: I know, Harm. Twenty-five thousand for the wedding and then that $30,000 for the farm. With our savings, we should have a nice down payment.  
  
Harm: Mac, you misread the second check.  
  
Mac: No I didn't.  
  
Harm: Yes, you did. You missed a zero.  
  
Mac: It's only three thousand? That seems a little low.  
  
Harm: No, sweetie, it's $300,000.  
  
Mac: Wow! Maybe we can get a horse farm!!!  
  
Harm: Actually, real estate in Virginia is pretty pricey, but I think we can count on finding something with that kind of cash. I know that's not just my money, though.  
  
Mac: Well, probably not, but you have to admit that the guy did it with class.  
  
Harm: He did. Now for the other part of the equation here.  
  
Mac: What's that?  
  
Harm: That meal was fantastic; I humbly apologize for even questioning your ability. I'm going to have to add three miles to my daily run just to keep from busting out of my uniforms if that's the way you cook.  
  
Mac: Don't worry. You'll be the chief cook after we're married.  
  
Harm: But.  
  
Mac: Do you remember when you went undercover as a Marine sergeant?  
  
Harm: Yeah.  
  
Mac: It was fun, wasn't it?  
  
Harm: Sure but I wouldn't want a steady diet of it. I'm a naval aviator; that's where I get my real thrills.  
  
Mac: Well, I'm an eater, not a cook, so sign up for KP.  
  
Harm: For special occasions, could you cook that same meal again? My birthday, Christmas, the second Tuesday of the month. I'll think of more, just give me a little time.  
  
Mac: We'll see. I think you owe me a little something from last night.  
  
Harm: Look out couch, here we come!  
Wedneday 04 March 2003  
  
1200 ZULU  
  
Mac and Harm meet at a bagel shop for breakfast. Mac opens a three inch loose-leaf notebook.  
  
Mac: Here's where we are so far. Dresses have been ordered. Caterer hired. Menu decided. Cake ordered. Band hired. Flowers ordered. Napkins are ordered. Harriet and I are doing the favors on Saturday, the 21st. The invitations were mailed Monday. I registered for china patterns, bed linens, and all that jazz. We need to choose wedding rings, meet with the Realtor today at 1600, and meet with the chaplain at 1900.  
  
Harm: My mother is a dynamo, isn't she?  
  
Mac: I don't know who is more indispensable, your mom or Harriet. When Harriet got that band, it blew me away.  
  
Harm: What'd she do?  
  
Mac: Some girl from her hometown cancelled a wedding, something about the boyfriend's cleaning lady turning up pregnant. Apparently, she had booked this great band two years in advance. They're a bunch of guys who do this as a sideline, but they've got talent. When Harriet heard, she called them, booked them, and we're flying them in.  
  
Harm: To the tune of how much?  
  
Mac: Your mom said not to sweat the small stuff. She'd handle it.  
  
Harm: Do you remember the words, "Just let us do this one little thing."?  
  
Mac: I know. She was so dear about it that I couldn't say no. We were desperate on the band. It was this or the midnight to four DJ on the oldies station.  
  
Harm: Okay. You did the right thing.  
  
Mac: Besides, I didn't spend as much as she wanted me to on the gown.  
  
Harm: She's paying for that too?  
  
Mac: She felt that I shouldn't buy off the rack, but when she saw the dress on me, she said that a designer couldn't do a better job.  
  
Harm: Really? My mother was that magnanimous?  
  
Mac: You missed the best part of the dress shopping.  
  
Harm: What was that?  
  
Mac: Chloe and your mom.  
  
Harm: Oh no, what happened?  
  
Mac: By then end of the day, your mother told Chloe to call her Grandma Trish and they are making plans for Chloe to visit California when school's out. Your mother promised her unlimited time in the pool, a trip to DisneyLand, and tours of the studios.  
  
Harm: Grandma Trish?  
  
Mac: Wait till you see the vacation that she has planned for Bud and Harriet and their kids!  
  
Harm: Did my mother find a dress?  
  
Mac: Yes. She's a pretty good looking woman; she certainly doesn't look her age.  
  
Harm: Mac, she's my mother, not a sex symbol.  
  
Mac: Still, I saw her undressed and  
  
Harm: This is definitely more information than I need to know. Next subject, please.  
  
Mac: Rings.  
  
Harm: Buy me one; I'll buy yours.  
  
Mac: Do you want them to match?  
  
Harm: Do you?  
  
Mac: Well, I don't know.  
  
Harm: Look, Mac. All I want is a simple thin gold band. If that's what you want, then we'll buy matching bands. If you want something different, we'll have to shop.  
  
Mac: Actually, because the band on this ring is so wide, I was thinking about something very simple too.  
  
Harm: Done. I'll call the jeweler in Pennsylvania.  
  
Mac: Shouldn't we shop and look?  
  
Harm: Do you like your ring?  
  
Mac: I love my ring, why?  
  
Harm: I'd say that Joe the Jeweler and I did pretty well on that with twenty-four hour's notice. Trust me on this one.  
  
Mac: You have a point.  
  
Harm: He'll send me a few in the mail; then we'll pick, okay?  
  
Mac: Perfect.  
  
Harm: Next topic.  
  
Mac: Counseling with Chaplain Turner.  
  
Harm: Did you finish your questionnaire?  
  
Mac: Of course, I'm the good kid.  
  
Harm: Can I look at yours?  
  
Mac: No. We're supposed to discuss the answers with him.  
  
Harm: How'd you answer the sex question?  
  
Mac: Female.  
  
Harm: Smart alec.  
  
Mac: Next subject. Realtor appointment. Today at 1600.  
  
Harm: Do we have to? We looked at thirty houses on Saturday. Not one of them was even fifty percent of the things we wanted.  
  
Mac: Today's might be. The admiral and Meredith spotted it on a ride on Sunday. I requested that the realtor take us out there.  
  
Harm: Where is it?  
  
Mac: Pretty far out in Loudin County. I guess the house needs updating, but it has a nice acreage.  
  
Harm: Is there a barn?  
  
Mac: Actually, there is. There's no garage.  
  
Harm: I'd rather have a barn. We can build a garage. How much?  
  
Mac: Spendy, but there's room to negotiate.  
  
Harm: Where are we meeting?  
  
Mac: Our office.  
  
Harm: Okay, I need to run. I'm going to Quantico today for my next lesson in Amateur Spy Training with Webb. I'll see you at 1600. We'll have to hustle to get back for the Chaplain. Can we push him back?  
  
Mac: I'll call him. I'll shoot for 19:30.  
  
ZULU 2300  
  
Rural Loudin County, Virginia  
  
Harm and Mac stare at the sun setting over freshly plowed fields.  
  
Harm: Okay, the kitchen is a disaster, the porch floor boards are rotten, the roof leaks, and it has only one bathroom. What do you think?  
  
Mac: It's perfect.  
  
Harm: I think so too. Let's buy it.  
ZULU 0030  
  
Admiral Chegwidden's Office JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA  
  
Chaplain Turner: I've looked over your answers to the pre-marital questionnaire. I must say that I've never seen anything like the answers you've given.  
  
Rabb: Is that a bad thing?  
  
Chaplain: Commander, it's just that usually couples are very different on their answers. Yours and the Colonel's are almost identical.  
  
Rabb: So that's a good thing?  
  
Chaplain: Not necessarily. It can be if that's honestly how you feel. It can be a disaster if you answered the way you did because you were just trying to please the other person. For example, Question 1, Which spouse will handle the bill paying and record keeping?  
  
At the same time, Rabb says, "Mac will." Mac says, "I will."  
  
Chaplain: Commander, does that threaten your masculinity?  
  
Rabb: What, that's she better at handling money than I am? No. I forget to pay car insurance.  
  
Chaplain: Mac, how do you feel about that?  
  
Mac: Harm's not irresponsible. He's perfectly capable and he's not a spendthrift. I'm just obsessive about it.  
  
Chaplain: Do you feel that he's any less of a man if you take care of the finances?  
  
Rabb: Excuse me?  
  
Chaplain: Commander, sometimes women resent the fact that they take the lead in financial matters. I'm trying to rule that out.  
  
Mac: Sir, I think we should look at this as the Commander has a 95% average in this class. I have a 98%. We're both acing the class. It doesn't diminish him in my eyes in the least.  
  
Rabb: Now I can sleep!  
  
Chaplain: Okay, here's a situation where you have differing answers. Number of children. Colonel, you said six. Commander, you said two. How do you each feel about the other's answer?  
  
Rabb: Six?  
  
Mac: Well, as many as we can squeeze in between now and the time I'm forty or forty-two.  
  
Rabb: Deal, next question.  
  
Chaplain: So when you answered two, you didn't necessarily think that's how many you wanted.  
  
Rabb: I want more than one. I was an only child and I would prefer that we have more than one. If that's not possible, we can adopt.  
  
Chaplain: Colonel, how would you feel about adoption?  
  
Mac: That'd be fine too.  
  
Chaplain: Okay, here's another potential sticking point. In-laws.  
  
Rabb: I'm the only one bringing any to the table. I see my mother about twice a year. I see my half-brother about that too.  
  
Mac: Both of those are fine with me.  
  
Chaplain: What if they pressure you to spend Christmas with them?  
  
Mac: Harm spends Christmas here so he can go to the wall. His mother understands that.  
  
Chaplain: Okay, the leading causes for marital problems are in-laws and finances. The area where all the problems of a marriage end up is in the bedroom. Let's talk about sex.  
  
Rabb: What, exactly, would you like to talk about?  
  
Chaplain: Well, this is difficult for me because I know you and your history. First, you have to forget about the fact that each of you has been involved with other people. You've chosen to be together and have willingly given up the past. Let's talk about what's been going on with you.  
  
Mac: Nothing has happened.  
  
Chaplain: Colonel, you don't have to worry about my confidentiality. We just need to talk about how intimate you've been and whether or not either of you feels that you've gone against your moral convictions by doing so. In other words, guilt.  
  
Rabb: Sir. When I asked Mac to marry me, I decided that since we were going to have a short engagement, I would like to wait to have sex with her until after we're married.  
  
Chaplain: Well, Commander, for hundreds of years, that was the normal protocol. Since the seventies, though, it's become pretty rare. Colonel, how do you feel about what Harm asked?  
  
Mac: At first I didn't understand. I thought it was lack of commitment on his part. I'm not sure I fully understand it now, but he's been attentive and very committed in every other area.  
  
Chaplain: So it was a bit of a rejection?  
  
Mac: Well, I guess a little. I've always received male attention for my body first, then for my mind.  
  
Harm: I'm not like everybody else.  
  
Mac: Obviously.  
  
Chaplain: I'm going to make a suggestion to you both. Sex is a very powerful tool in marriage's hardware store. I don't think you're going to hurt anything by abstaining. Let the first time be a gift to each other, secure in the legal and moral commitment that you've made. Think of it as something that you're perfectly entitled to be doing, even if the President walked in on you. Many times, couples come to me after they've been married for a time and there's a reason that they have to put their sex lives on a shelf. In some military cases, it's for a separation or an injury. Many times, it's following childbirth. There's a mandatory medical wait, only for the wife to find that she's so exhausted, she lacks desire. The husband feels rejected. I think that learning some self-control before marriage can help this. Think of it as a gift, not a right. It's just one of a thousand ways that you can please your mate, albeit a big one. Too many people have relied on it as their only way. I visit a Veteran's hospital near my home. There's a retired admiral who is in the Alzheimer's Ward there. I remember him from my first tour of duty. The entire fleet was in total awe of him. About two years ago, his wife slipped and broke her hip. She could no longer care for him at home, so reluctantly, she agreed for him to go to the VA hospital. Each day at two o'clock, she comes to the hospital, like clockwork. She brings her mail with her and reads it to him, comments on bills or on letters they've received from their grandchildren and great- grandchildren. She sits and talks to him. He just looks at her as she prattles on. At five o'clock, she pushes him in his wheelchair down to the dining room and eats dinner with him. He can't feed himself any more, so she spoons each bite of pureed food into his mouth. The way that she does it, though, is so dignified that you'd think they were having dinner at the O Club. She talks to the other patients as if they were old friends. When they've finished, she wheels him back to his room and they sit and watch Jeopardy! When that's over, she helps the aide get him ready for bed, including changing his diaper. She tucks him into bed and sits there until he falls asleep. Then she makes her way out to her car, greeting people and chatting all the way. I asked her once if she didn't think that she had been on the short end of the stick watching her husband slip away like that. She said something that I'll never forget. She said, "When we were young and he'd pull sea duty, I'd write to him every day, and try to make it seem like I was just talking to him. It's about the same now. He hears me; sometimes I think he understands me. He just can't talk back right now. But I promised the good Lord if He would bring him back safely from sea duty, I'd never complain about having him home. Couples used to marry for better or for worse. He gave me years of the best. Now it's my turn to do the same for him. This is a small enough thing to do to make his final years happy ones."  
  
Mac: That's a very sweet story. Doesn't she ever take a break?  
  
Chaplain: On Sundays, members of the family take turns visiting with her. Other days, she's the only one. I'd say she understands the commitment she made many years ago. She also learned to use a few other tools in the store.  
  
You see, Commander, Colonel, I think that you're wise to use this time to develop other ways to make each other happy.  
  
Rabb: Like cooking?  
  
Chaplain: I'm not sure what you mean.  
  
Rabb: Well, sir, Mac made this fabulous meal for my parents. I assumed that was going to be her normal mode, but she thinks I'm going to be the chief cook.  
  
Chaplain: In the years that you've known her, has she shown a great interest in cooking?  
  
Rabb: No! That's why this was so impressive!  
  
Chaplain: So you think that she became Betty Crocker because you gave her a ring?  
  
Mac: Sir, let me interrupt you. Harm, I enjoy cooking and entertaining, occasionally. It does not come easily to me and I work very hard at it. You, on the other hand,  
  
Rabb: I love cooking!  
  
Chaplain: So you should cook.  
  
Rabb: But she's the wo-; nevermind, I think I get the picture.  
  
Chaplain: And you, Mac, should clean up.  
  
Mac: No problem. I can do that without thinking.  
  
Chaplain: One more thing before I let you go. We'll meet a few more times before the wedding to discuss any other misunderstandings that may come up. Then I'll have you choose a ceremony, unless you're writing your own vows.  
  
Harm and Mac: No!  
  
Chaplain: As I was saying, if and when, you encounter problems in your marriage, do not be ashamed to get help from a professional. Most things can be fixed if you don't let them go too long.  
  
Mac: Thanks, sir. You've helped us already.  
  
Chaplain: Good, now work on my son for me. He needs a wife.  
  
Mac and Harm walk to their cars. Harm takes Mac into his arms.  
  
Mac: Flyboy, this is really going to happen, isn't it?  
  
Harm: Don't you want it to?  
  
Mac: It feels like a dream.  
  
Harm: Better a dream than a nightmare.  
  
Mac: Harm, would you feed me in a nursing home?  
  
Harm: Just try to stop me, Sarah. "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite."  
  
Mac: Harm, is it too late to invite her to the wedding?  
  
Harm: To invite whom?  
  
Mac: Your high school English teacher.  
  
Harm flashes THE smile.  
  
Coming Attractions in Chapter 3 Mission: Attempted  
  
Girl's day at the spa, A.J.'s survival bachelor party, Grandma Rabb, and Wedding Jitterbugs. 


	3. Chapter 3 Mission Attempted

Spoiler: I really thought I could get this written in three chapters. However, when I began to write, the characters came alive, and they have so much to say! I'm losing sleep as these characters beckon me to tell their story. Then, of course, I must have my daily JAG fix on USA, not to mention the Tuesday night fix. I'm accumulating quite the video collection. I thought the male Marine attorney prosecuting Harm showed promise. The female didn't do much for me, although I liked that pencil deal. She used to be on a soap. What's with Mark Harmon? He's a little too weird. Somebody needs to do some quick writing and humanize him.  
  
I admit that I'm exploring the Rabb family dynamics in this piece; they intrigue me. I have an interesting take on Grandma Rabb who should show up, finally, in the next chapter. So, for those of you who like this, I know that there will be at least three more chapters, possibly more. Thanks so much for your kind comments. I apologize if this seems to be slowing down. I did have one person who was concerned that I was moving too fast. I'll be interested to see if I get comments that I'm now moving too slowly.  
Chapter 3 Mission: Attempted  
2 March 2003  
  
ZULU 1300  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
  
Mac: Tiner, is the Admiral in?  
  
Tiner: Yes, ma'am.  
  
Mac: Ask him if he can give me a minute, please.  
  
Tiner knocks and enters Admiral Chegwidden's office. Thirty seconds later, he reappears.  
  
Tiner: Colonel, the Admiral will see you now.  
  
Mac: Thanks, Tiner.  
  
Admiral: Colonel MacKenzie, what's on your mind?  
  
Mac: Sir, it's a personal issue that I need to talk to you about.  
  
Admiral: Sit down, I have a few minutes.  
  
Mac: Well, sir, it's about the wedding.  
  
Admiral: Meredith and I responded. We'll be there.  
  
Mac: I know, I mean thanks, well, what I mean is I know this will be the second time I asked you, but do you think you could give me away again?  
  
Admiral: Again, Colonel? I don't think I ever did the first time. It seems to me that that mission was aborted.  
  
Mac: Well, you know what I mean. I didn't know how you'd feel doing it again with another guy.  
  
Admiral: First of all, Mac, I do it for you, not for the guy. Secondly, if Rabb came in here and asked me to give him away, I'd gladly do that too. I'd like to think that we've become a bit of a family at JAG under my command.  
  
Mac: Well, I'd like to think that too. You're kind of like our dad, not that you're old enough to be my father or anything, Sir.  
  
Admiral: No, Colonel, you're not young enough to be my daughter.  
  
Mac: Yes, sir.  
  
Admiral: Is that all?  
  
Mac: Well, sir, is there any thing I can do to get rid of this feeling of terror I have?  
  
Admiral: Terror, Colonel?  
  
Mac: Well, I don't know what else to call it. First there was Harm's comment of "All the guys who've been involved with Mac are either dead or wish they were." Then there's the Rabb curse.  
  
Admiral: First of all, Rabb's attempt at humor was poor. Did you ever think that he was one of those who wished he were dead because he didn't have you because of his own ineptness? Secondly, what Rabb curse?  
  
Mac: The men die leaving their women to raise their sons.  
  
Admiral: Is that what you're afraid of?  
  
Mac: Sometimes. Why aren't the women enough to keep them out of the air? Am I enough?  
  
Admiral: Mac, you need to talk to Harm about this.  
  
Mac: I can't. How can I ask him not to fly?  
  
Admiral: You can't. What you can ask is for him to explain why the two have nothing to do with each other.  
  
Mac: Flying and loving?  
  
Admiral: I could explain it to you, but you need to hear it from the man you love. He needs to make you understand. Do you want me to talk to him?  
  
Mac: I don't know. Can I think about it?  
  
Admiral: Don't let this go, Mac. Communicate with the man; he's not a mindreader.  
  
Mac: Thanks, Admiral.  
  
Admiral: My door is always open, Colonel.  
3 March 2003  
  
ZULU  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VA  
  
Commander Rabb: Tiner, is the Admiral in his office?  
  
Tiner: Yes, sir. Would you like to see him?  
  
Rabb: Well, if he has a minute.  
  
Tiner leaves his desk, knocks and enters Admiral Chegwidden's office. Thirty seconds later, Tiner reappears.  
  
Tiner: Commander, the Admiral will see you now.  
  
Rabb enters the office.  
  
Admiral: What can I do for you, Commander?  
  
Rabb: Well, sir, it's a bit personal.  
  
Admiral: Really? I can spare a few minutes. What's on your mind?  
  
Rabb: It's about the wedding, well not really the wedding, more the marriage. How do I know it will last?  
  
Admiral: How do we know anything will last? How do you know your career here at JAG will last?  
  
Rabb: Well, sir, that's easy. If I work hard, do my job, and keep my nose clean, I'll still have a job here.  
  
Admiral: What makes you think that being a husband is any different?  
  
Rabb: Well, isn't that tied up with love and feelings, sir?  
  
Admiral: Commander, do you love being a JAG lawyer every single minute of every single day?  
  
Rabb: Permission to speak freely sir?  
  
Admiral: Granted.  
  
Rabb: No. But most of the time I love it and I am committed to it.  
  
Admiral: Did you love every single minute of every single day of flight school and flying?  
  
Rabb: I can think of a few punch outs that I didn't care too much for, sir.  
  
Admiral: Well, Commander, I think that's your answer to the marriage question as well. I'm sure there will be times that you don't "feel" like doing your job as a husband, but you will be committed, you will do your duty, and most of the time, you will love it.  
  
Rabb: But what about Mac? What if she doesn't love it? What if she's not committed to it?  
  
Admiral: You can't do anything about that, Commander. That's her commitment.  
  
Rabb: But sir.  
  
Admiral: Commander, could Mic force Mac to be committed to him?  
  
Rabb: Er, ah, no sir.  
  
Admiral: Has Mac come to this decision willingly?  
  
Rabb: Well, we did have some help from Webb, but for the most part, I think she's willing.  
  
Admiral: Then you get on your knees and thank God that she has and don't you ever stop being thankful for that. I think you'll find out that , if you have that attitude, things will work out just fine. Anything else on your mind, Commander?  
  
Rabb: No, that about covers it, sir.  
  
Admiral: Commander, have you talked to your fiancee about things that may be bothering the two of you?  
  
Rabb: Not really, sir, do you think I should?  
  
Admiral: Commander, you need to communicate with the woman. Don't leave things unsaid between you.  
  
Rabb: Thank you, sir.  
  
Admiral: My door is always open, Rabb. Oh, did you know that Mac asked me to give her away at the wedding?  
  
Rabb: Yes, sir.  
  
Admiral: Since I'm assuming the surrogate father role in this case, let me warn you that I'll kick your six from here to Russia and back if you ever forget the commitment that you've made to her. Do I make myself clear, Commander?  
  
Rabb: Sir, yes, sir.  
  
Admiral: Dismissed. (Watches Rabb leave). I wonder how many more counseling sessions we'll have before the 28th?  
  
5 March 2003  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
  
Rabb sits in his office staring at his computer screen.  
  
Mac walks in.  
  
Mac: Can I interrupt?  
  
Rabb: Gladly, I'm memorizing Webb's list of code names.  
  
Mac: I was thinking about those last night and wondering why we couldn't memorize English names, it would be so much easier.  
  
Rabb: He wants us to use Arabic names so that we blend into the culture more.  
  
Mac: As if you look like an Arab?  
  
Rabb: There was always Lawrence of Arabia. Did you need something?  
  
Mac: I just came to let you know that we've reached a contract price on the farm.  
  
Rabb: Atta girl, Marine. Do I want to know how much now or after I've had a couple of beers with dinner?  
  
Mac: Eighty percent of asking price.  
  
Rabb: Really? I'm impressed. I would have started at ninety percent.  
  
Mac: Well, I did my homework. The heirs are eager to settle the estate. The house needs a new kitchen, an entire master suite which we have room for on the unfinished second floor, a new roof, new porch floorboards, and to be fumigated of mice and mice droppings. Let's just say that I used the need for those improvements to our advantage in the negotiations.  
  
Rabb: You drive a hard bargain, Marine. So, where's that leave us financially?  
  
Mac: We're about at a push using your "college money" and our savings if we don't build a garage this year. We'll still be mortgage free.  
  
Rabb: What about the kitchen though?  
  
Mac: That's remodeling the existing kitchen.  
  
Rabb: Did we rule out building on a new kitchen? Master bedroom?  
  
Mac: I thought we should just remodel the existing kitchen and add on when we have more time. My figure includes making the entire second floor the master bedroom, bathroom, and and office alcove. I've gotten one quote and am waiting for two more.  
  
Rabb: That leaves the three bedrooms on the first floor to fill up with kids. Two in each bedroom, that's efficient. It'll be our own barracks. Wow. Did I know you were this good?  
  
Mac: You've been busy, so I've just handled it. I wasn't trying to leave you out.  
  
Rabb: If I have to make all of the decisions, one of us isn't necessary.  
  
Mac: Glad you see it my way. Are we meeting tonight?  
  
Rabb: We meet every night.  
  
Mac: I mean to update all the lists.  
  
Rabb: Yes. I'll cook. By the way, when can we close on the farm?  
  
Mac: Since we have no bank involvement, they just need to give us clear title paperwork, so I'd say in less than ten days.  
  
Rabb: I'd really like to be able to move your stuff from your apartment to the farm, even if we have to put it in the barn. I don't want to have to move your furniture twice, once to a storage facility and then once to the farm.  
  
Mac: I packed some boxes last night after you left. Maybe you should do all the cooking for the next three weeks and then I can pack up my kitchen.  
  
Rabb: Smooth move, Marine. That's probably not a bad idea.  
  
Mac: I'd better get out of here so that the Corps gets its money's worth out of me today.  
2400 ZULU  
  
Harm's apartment North of Union Station  
  
Rabb: Okay, go over that last week's schedule with me one more time.  
  
Mac: Friday the 20th, Closing on the house. You, Sturgis, Tiner, Gunny, and the Admiral move the boxes to the barn. Once you move my furniture, I'm going to stay at Harriet & Bud's. Jingo is going to the Admiral's house to live with Dammit until we get back from Iraq. .  
  
Saturday the 21st, Your parents arrive. We are scheduled to have dinner with them. I'd like to have someone else there.  
  
Rabb: How about the Admiral and Meredith?  
  
Mac: Run it by your mother and then we'll ask the Admiral  
  
Sunday, the 22nd. I told Harriet that I'd go to church with her. My afternoon is free.  
  
Rabb: Not any more. I'll meet you for church, take you to lunch, and then we'll go to the farm and get some things organized. I think that my mother and Frank want to see the farm.  
  
Mac: Okay, we can do that.  
  
Rabb: What's Monday look like?  
  
Mac: Harriet, Meredith, and I are meeting to take care of these favors. I don't know why I didn't just buy the things and be done with it.  
  
Rabb: Because you're thrifty?  
  
Mac: I didn't know that all of this was going to take so much time. Packing, moving, tying up loose ends and the office, getting ready for Iraq - it's all been so time consuming.  
  
Rabb: You left out planning the wedding.  
  
Mac: That hasn't been so bad. I guess Webb's handlers did me some good. Your mother helped when she was here and Harriet, the woman is a human palm pilot!  
  
Rabb: Are you happy, Mac? Are you excited?  
  
Mac: Right now I'm tired, but I would say I'm content. It's time to take this step. We've both resisted taking it, one of us more than the other, but our relationship had come to a fork and we needed to choose which way it would go.  
  
Rabb: You don't think we could have kept going the way we were?  
  
Mac: Sooner or later we each needed to make a commitment, either to each other or to someone else. We both want a family. We're getting older. If we didn't marry each other, one of us would marry someone else. If it would have been you, I know I would have been crushed. Renee was a nice person, but I wondered sometimes what you two ever talked about. She tried so hard to get along with all of us at JAG, but she was so -  
  
Rabb: Was "shallow" the word you were thinking of? Listen, I'm not going to gloat over my victory, but it used to kill me every time I saw Mic's hands on you. There again, he was a nice guy, just not for my Marine.  
  
Mac: You took Renee to meet your parents.  
  
Rabb: You wouldn't wait for me in Australia. I was trying to move on. I thought that Brumby was your choice. I wanted you to be happy; if he was the one, then so be it.  
  
Mac: But he wasn't, and now you're here.  
  
Rabb: And I'm going to be here, loving you, until we have wheelchair races at the Old Soldiers and Sailors Home.  
  
Mac: Back to the list or we'll never finish. Tuesday is my last day of work. I'm leaving Wednesday free as a contingency day. Wednesday night, Chloe comes in. She'll stay with me at the Roberts' house.  
  
Rabb: That's if Grandma Trish doesn't get to her first. Tuesday, Frank is going to drive to Pennsylvania to pick up Grandma Rabb. She has refused to fly.  
  
Mac: That's nice of Frank.  
  
Rabb: Ha! It's very nice of him, considering Grandma doesn't like him.  
  
Mac: Because he married your mom?  
  
Rabb: Among other reasons, like he's pompous. Anyway, she has a few things from her house that she wants me, us, to have. Things that can't go on a plane. Since you have no definite plans on Wednesday, could you consider spending time with Grandma for me? I have to appear in court to wrap up a Dereliction case for a Marine sentry. I'm planning to take her to lunch, but I'd like her to have someone to talk to other than my mom and Frank.  
  
Mac: What is it that you're not telling me?  
  
Rabb: Let's just say that the Rabb men have a thing for strong-willed women. My mom and grandma have been known to clash occasionally, especially over men my mother marries.  
  
Mac: Do you think they fought over your dad?  
  
Rabb: I think Grandma has mellowed, but my dad was her baby. Oh, my goodness, I just remembered that Sergei gets here Wednesday afternoon. I need to introduce him to Grandma.  
  
Mac: What about on Wednesday night?  
  
Rabb: Well, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. The Admiral has something planned.  
  
Mac: I'm not bailing you out of jail if you get busted in a strip joint like you did before Bud's wedding.  
  
Rabb: Actually, the Admiral mentioned that when he told me he had something more fitting planned.  
  
Mac: Which would be what?  
  
Rabb: Well, I am not privvy to all the details, but a group is going to go on a little camping trip.  
  
Mac: Camping where?  
  
Rabb: That's on a need to know, and apparently, I don't need to know.  
  
Mac: Who's going?  
  
Rabb: I am, of course, and the Admiral, Bud, Sturgis, Alex, Sergei, Tiner, Gunny, Webb, and Frank.  
  
Mac: Frank? Who invited Frank?  
  
Rabb: We needed him to make even teams.  
  
Mac: Teams for what? War games?  
  
Rabb: In a manner of speaking, yes. I think it involves a cross of paintball and capture the flag. We're leaving Wednesday night and will be back on Friday morning.  
  
Mac: You mean Thursday night, right?  
  
Rabb: Well, the Admiral says it'll probably be Friday.  
  
Mac: Well, the future Mrs. Rabb outranks the Admiral in this case, and says it'll be late, even very late, Thursday night. Are we clear?  
  
Rabb: Sir, yes, sir. Can you issue that order to the Admiral? I'd look henpecked.  
  
Mac: You are henpecked.  
  
Rabb: I know, and I love it.  
  
Mac: What are the teams?  
  
Rabb: Well, one team gets Bud and the other gets Frank. Bud will have a few mobility problems which Frank won't have. Frank's liability is that he won't have a clue which end of the weapon to fire or how to read north by looking at the north star. We'll probably divide the Russians too. I think the team captains are the Admiral and Webb, so that leaves Sturgis, Gunny, Tiner, and me. I'd guess that the teams will be the Admiral, Sturgis, Bud, Tiner, and Alex against Webb, Sergei, Gunny, Frank, and me. I have to find a way to get Bud and Frank switched. I cannot be on Frank's team. He'll drive me crazy. I know, I'll pull a switch and substitute you for him. You and I can go off and nobody will find us. Our team would win!  
  
Mac: Of course our team would win. We'd have two Marines! I can't go, much as I'd hate to miss it. On Thursday, Chloe is visiting some friends she had when she lived here. Your mother, grandmother, Harriet, Meredith, Jennifer Coates, and I are going to spend the day at the spa. One full day of pampering and girl talk. We're having the works: manicure, pedicure, facials, salt scrubs, massages, aroma therapy.  
  
Rabb: Whose idea was that?  
  
Mac: Your mother's.  
  
Rabb: Does Grandma know?  
  
Mac: I don't know. Why?  
  
Rabb: Oh, Sarah. You are in for an adventure bigger than the Great Bachelor Paintball Extravaganza.  
  
Mac: You exaggerate! Friday will be another catch up day. The wedding rehearsal is at 1800, followed by the rehearsal dinner at the Admiral's.  
  
Rabb: What's that about anyway? It's not as if my mother and Frank can't afford a restaurant.  
  
Mac: They are having it catered. The Admiral offered, and your mother said it would be more intimate.  
  
Rabb: Did I tell you that my mom is staying with me on Friday night?  
  
Mac: That's kind of sweet.  
  
Rabb: I think she's going to explain the facts of life to me.  
  
Mac: I don't think so.  
  
Rabb: She told me that she'd like to make me breakfast, my old favorite, pancakes and strawberries. My mom loves me so much that she wants to cook for me.  
  
Mac: Harm, you and your mother shared many years of things being just the two of you. I think that this is a very sweet gesture.  
  
Rabb: The thing is, so do I. I've missed our special breakfasts. So then do we have anything going on Saturday?  
  
Mac: Not much. I thought I'd go out to the Naval Observatory in the afternoon and scout around, see what kind of things are out there.  
  
Rabb: Tell you what, I'll meet you there, then take you dancing. Then I'm going to take you flying with me.  
  
Mac smiles.  
20 March 2003  
  
1500 ZULU  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VA  
  
Colonel Sarah MacKenzie steps off the elevator and pauses in front of Commander Rabb's door.  
  
Mac: Hey flyboy, I have something for you.  
  
Rabb: I'll just bet you do. Is it anything you can tell me about here?  
  
Mac (throws a set of keys at him): Sure, here's the key to your new home.  
  
Rabb: I'm sorry I was in court and couldn't go to the closing. Did you have any problems?  
  
Mac: No, you have an excellent attorney. She handled the whole thing.  
  
Rabb: Your idea for me to sign a power of attorney was brilliant. I feel like the luckiest man on earth. I'm marrying the B&B Colonel MacKenzie.  
  
Mac: I don't do breakfast.  
  
Rabb: I meant Beautiful and Brilliant.  
  
Mac: I have everything ready at my apartment. You have people and trucks lined up?  
  
Rabb: Yes. You and Harriet will bring food?  
  
Mac: We're bringing Chinese food. How many people?  
  
Rabb: Figure enough food to feed ten. We're on the down slope now.  
  
Rabb's phone rings.  
  
Rabb: Stay here. I won't be long. Rabb. Oh, hi mom. Yes. What about tomorrow? Okay. Well, Mom that's fine, but I'm moving Mac's stuff out to the farm tonight. Oh, are you sure, Mom? No, no, you're welcome to help us move (rolls his eyes). Okay. Are you sure Frank's up to all the physical labor? All right then. I'll see you tonight. I'll fax the driving directions to your hotel. Thanks for letting me know. Bye.  
  
You're not going to believe this, but Mom just called from Chicago and they are on their way.  
  
Mac: They are supposed to be coming tomorrow.  
  
Rabb: I know. That's what Mom thought too, but then Frank had a meeting in Detroit, so his secretary changed the plans, had them meet in Chicago and fly here. Their flight gets in at 1600. They're renting a car and want to help us move.  
  
Mac: Harm, Meredith and Jen are going out to the house to clean, so that we can put some things into the house. The kitchen cupboards are full of mouse dirt! What is your mother going to think?  
  
Rabb: I don't know. Frank will probably offer to hire a cleaning lady for us! Mac, what can we do at this point? If they don't like it, they don't like it. I'm a big boy. I'm marrying the woman I want and we bought the house we wanted. Everyone else can just deal with it.  
  
Mac: I'm going to my office and ordering in for lunch. I'll see you at 1900 at the farm. You have my apartment keys so that you can get in?  
  
Rabb: I'm all keyed up and ready to go.  
  
2155 ZULU  
  
MAC'S APARTMENT  
  
Admiral Chegwidden: Rabb? Military Movers, Incorporated has just arrived. Let's make short order of this move.  
  
Rabb (from the bedroom with clipboard): Why don't we start with the boxes?  
  
Admiral: No, Commander, we start with the large pieces of furniture and then we fill in the smaller spaces with boxes.  
  
Rabb: Oh, okay, that makes sense too.  
  
Bud Roberts: Hello? The Colonel told me that there's a box of cleaning supplies in her kitchen. I'm going to the house to help Meredith and Petty Officer Coates. I figure that every job needs a boss.  
  
Rabb: It's right here, Bud. Could you ask them to hit the kitchen and bathroom first? My mother is coming and we're a little concerned about the amount of rodent debris that she may encounter.  
  
Admiral: Have everyone wear respirator masks and use bleach, Bud.  
  
Roberts: Sir?  
  
Admiral: Haven't you heard of "hantavirus", Bud?  
  
Roberts: No sir, I haven't.  
  
Admiral: It's a respiratory virus that lives in the feces of infected mice that becomes airborne when it is stirred up in dust, as in when you clean out old barns or sheds. The virus causes several fatalties a year in the US. It's best to wet down an area with water and bleach and clean it up that way rather than to sweep first, then mop. I'm sure Petty Officer Coates can swab a deck with the best of them. You may need to use some persuasion with Meredith though.  
  
Rabb: Admiral, do me a favor and don't mention "hantavirus" in front of my stepfather. He'll be calling a biohazard clean up team in.  
  
Admiral: He's a little germ wary? How's he going to do on our bivouac?  
  
Rabb: I'm dreading that.  
  
Admiral: The trip or Frank?  
  
Rabb: Frank on the trip. Admiral, he's never been in the armed services. I don't think he's ever camped. His idea of roughing it is to stay at a four star resort rather than a five.  
  
Admiral: Don't sell him short. He'll be okay. Besides, he's on your team, not mine! Grab your toolbox and start taking that bed frame apart. Oh, Tiner, Gunny, you're here. Grab that mattress and box springs and take them down to the parking lot. Do not put them in the truck, set them next to the truck. Then-  
  
Gunny: Some things never change. You think he learned moving skills in Command school?  
  
Admiral: I heard that! Sturgis, do you think you and I can handle that buffet over there or do we need Rabb?  
  
Trish Burnett: Hello? We're here.  
  
Admiral: Hello Mrs. Burnett, how was your trip?  
  
Trish: Oh, just fine. I'm so excited to be here. Where's Harm?  
  
Admiral: He's in the bedroom taking the bed frame apart.  
  
Frank: Trish, where did you put that bag with my other clothes?  
  
Trish: Oh, I have it here, dear. Just change in the bathroom.  
  
Frank: When do the movers get here?  
  
Admiral: They're here.  
  
Frank: I didn't see the moving van when I parked.  
  
Admiral: You don't understand. WE are the movers. There is no van. We have rented a panel truck and then we have pickups and my SUV.  
  
Frank: Oh. Well, I didn't know you could do that. I learn something new every day.  
  
Harm: Hi Mom! I thought I heard your voice. Frank, you wearing your work clothes?  
  
Frank: I'm just heading in to the bathroom to change. Nice to see you too, Harm.  
  
Trish: Harmon Rabb! You be nice. He's trying.  
  
Harm embraces his mother, kissing her on the cheek.  
  
Trish: What can I do to be of the most help?  
  
Harm: You can take Frank and  
  
Admiral: Do you think you could take the cushions off the sofa and chairs? That would be so helpful. Rabb, make yourself useful and get on the other end of this couch. Sturgis, you, Gunny, and Tiner take the pieces of that bed downstairs. When you get back, start taking the drawers out of the dressers and chests. They'll be easier to move empty. Frank, now that you're ready to work, you can start loading the large boxes in my SUV. The seats are folded down and here are my keys. Okay, Harm, on my count let's go with this couch. 1,2, 3.  
  
Frank: AJ, you really know how to be proactive in many situations. That's an executive trait we look for in hiring.  
  
Gunny (entering the apartment): They teach you that in command school, I hear.  
  
Admiral: Gunny, that's twice. Thanks, Frank, I have a job. Tiner, get the door, will you?  
2400 ZULU  
  
Rabb Farm Kitchen Loudin County, Virginia  
  
Meredith: That's the end of that, and not a moment too soon. Here come the trucks. The house needs work, but at least it's clean. Jennifer, you are a tireless worker.  
  
Coates: Yes, ma'am. Thank you.  
  
Meredith: Please just call me Meredith. When he gets here, call him A.J.  
  
Coates: Oh, I couldn't do that ma'am. I'll just call him Admiral or sir.  
  
Meredith: I wonder if I'll ever get used to this. Oh, here comes Mac with the food. Let's have her bring it in here and we'll set up on the counter here and serve buffet style. Where are those plastic plates and utensils I brought?  
  
Coates: We left them in the car while we fumigated. I'll get them.  
  
Admiral: Hello. (quickly kisses Meredith on the cheek) You're really dirty and sweaty.  
  
Meredith: I've been working.  
  
Admiral: You'd better shower tonight.  
  
Meredith: What did you have in mind?  
  
Admiral: I was talking about hantavirus.  
  
Trish: Oh, my, so this is the house. This kitchen is so, so  
  
Frank: Obsolete?  
  
Trish: Oh, Frank, it reminds me of my grandmother's kitchen. In fact, I think that's the same wallpaper my grandmother had. Don't you let Harm hear you criticize this house. The first place a couple has is so special. I remember when my Harm and I got back from our honeymoon and settled into base housing. He and I had such fun playing house. (Looking at Frank) Oh well, that was all a long time ago. What can I do to help?  
  
Admiral: Now Meredith, we need to arrange this more efficiently. The silverware needs to be at the end of the line, so that no one is juggling it while he gets food. Napkins should be at the far end too. That's better.  
  
Mac: Wow! We're not even moved in and all our friends are here for a party.  
  
Harm: Mac, party, nothing. We are hungry. Bud, did you put the beer and sodas in the refrigerator to chill?  
  
Bud: Yes, sir.  
  
Harm: Mac, you need to tell us how we're doing this.  
  
Mac opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by the Admiral.  
  
Admiral: Tiner, you and Sturgis can easily get that table and some chairs from the back of the truck. Take Meredith's keys and get the lawn chairs out of her trunk. We can easily seat everyone if we'll just wait five minutes. I'm going to remind everyone that we've been moving dirty, dusty things and we probably should each do a thirty second scrub with antibacterial soap while we're waiting for the table and chairs.  
  
Frank: Trish, this guy is simply amazing. Can you imagine what he'd do for a Fortune 500 company?  
  
Admiral: Thanks, Frank, but I told you, I already have a job. Okay, Coates, careful, clear the way for Harriet. Harriet, I don't want you carrying anything quite so heavy. What's in the crock?  
  
Harriet: Oh, sir, I made some beef barbeque for those who don't care for Chinese food. Bud, the rolls and a sheet cake for dessert are in the back of the van. Could you get them for me, sweetie? Gunny, I packed a cooler of iced tea as well. It's fairly heavy, so you'd better get it. Grab the plastic cups while you're there. Oh my, you ladies did a nice job of cleaning things up here. When I was here earlier, the mouse droppings were EVERYWHERE.  
  
Frank: Mice?  
  
Harm: I guess that's why every farm has a cat. Let's eat.  
  
Frank (aside): Trish, did she say mice?  
  
Trish: It'll be okay, dear. You don't have to live here.  
  
Admiral: Let's get the chow and we'll have a toast and then we'll eat. After we eat, we'll get this stuff unloaded and then it'll all be Harm and Mac's problem.  
  
Frank: Trish, he's definitely CEO material.  
  
Harm , Mac, Tiner, Gunny, Harriet, Bud, Coates, Meredith, Sturgis, and Trish: FRANK, he has a job!  
21 March 2003  
  
1100 ZULU  
  
Roberts' Home Kitchen.  
  
Harm knocks lightly on the back door. Mac, dressed in Marine sweats, is sitting at the table with little A.J.  
  
A.J. : Aunt Mac, Uncle Harm's here.  
  
Mac: Good morning, Harm.  
  
Harm: I was afraid I'd wake you.  
  
Mac: Nah, A.J. jumped on me a half-hour ago. We're just ready to have Cheerios and apple juice. The coffee should be ready in 10. I just put it on.  
  
Harm: Where are Harriet and Bud?  
  
A.J.: Oh, my Daddy likes to have "Mommy/Daddy" time on Saturdays, so I'm allowed to come downstairs and turn on Disney. Today I have Mac to play with though.  
  
Harm: What's "Mommy/Daddy" time, buddy?  
  
Mac: A.J., can you help me get bowls and spoons? (Shoots Harm a dirty look).  
  
Harm: Hey, buddy, do you have any yogurt and any granola?  
  
A.J.: What's granola?  
  
Mac: Yucky cereal with no prizes and an ugly box.  
  
A.J.: Yeah we have that. Mommy says it helps her be a regular Mommy.  
  
Harm: What's he talking about?  
  
Mac: I'll explain later. Sit down and eat.  
  
Harm: Hey, AJ, do you want to get dressed after you eat and come with Aunt Mac and me? We're going to the farm. There's a big swing and you and I can jump out of the top of the barn into a big pile of hay.  
  
AJ: I have to ask my mommy first. Do my mom and dad have to come with me?  
  
Harm: Nah, we'll just give them some "Mommy/Daddy" time.  
  
Mac: You're incorrigible.  
  
Harm: What? We can leave a note saying "We took AJ to the farm. Please come and get him after you become a regular Mommy and have had some quality "Mommy/Daddy" time." Mac, our children can never speak to our friends.  
  
Mac: Okay, buddy, I'll race you to see who's ready first.  
  
Bud (stumbling bleary-eyed into the kitchen in a robe): Hey, what's all the noise?  
  
AJ: Daddy, Uncle Harm is taking me to his farm to swing on the swing and jump out of the barn. You can play with Mommy while I'm gone.  
  
Bud: Excuse me?  
  
Harm: Mac and I thought we'd take AJ with us to the farm. You can pick him up later this morning. Serve your pregnant wife breakfast in bed.  
  
Bud: I owe you big time, pal.  
  
Harm: For what?  
  
Bud: You will know all too soon. I promise Harriet and I will give you two a break some day.  
  
1200 ZULU  
  
Rabb Farm  
  
Mac: Where's AJ?  
  
Harm: He's swinging on the tire swing under that maple tree by the barn. I can see him from the window. I can see you've got the living room situated. Dining room looks okay. We'll need to paint when we get back from Iraq, but your furniture looks good in there. (Looks around the kitchen and sighs.)  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Harm: I guess I wish that this kitchen were just about eight to ten feet wider. If we could just push that wall back and put those windows back, this kitchen would be perfect.  
  
Mac: Perfect?  
  
Harm: Well, I like to have room to move.  
  
Mac: Do you like surprises?  
  
Harm: Yes.  
  
Mac: Then stop talking about your kitchen.  
  
Harm: Really? Am I getting a kitchen surprise? When?  
  
Mac: Friday morning.  
  
Harm: Okay. I'll stop talking.  
  
Mac: Harm, you set up my bed in the biggest bedroom down here, right?  
  
Harm: Yes, why?  
  
Mac: Well, I wanted to make it up with clean sheets and get things situated in that bedroom. I anticipate that they'll be working on the upstairs as soon as they get the new roof on, so I didn't want the bed up there. If, by some miracle, we get finished in Iraq in a month or two, we'll need somewhere to sleep when we come here.  
  
Harm: Mac, if you'll watch AJ, I'll go make up the bed.  
  
Mac: We both can probably see him from the bedroom window.  
  
Harm: I'm thinking of him as our little chaperone right now.  
  
Mac: Enough said. Who's that pulling into our driveway?  
  
AJ (appears at the back door): Aunt Mac, there's a stranger coming. I'm not allowed to talk to strangers.  
  
Harm: Guess who? My mother and Frank.  
  
Trish: Hello, darlings.  
  
Harm: Morning, Mom. Morning, Frank.  
  
Trish: Hello, young man. I'm Trish. What's your name?  
  
Harm: AJ, This lady is my mommy. You can talk to her. She's not a stranger.  
  
AJ: Is he your dad?  
  
Harm: Well, he's kind of like my dad. My dad died a long time ago, and then my mom married him. His name is Frank. He's not a stranger either.  
  
Frank (squatting down): Hi AJ. I saw a pond across the road. Would you like to walk down there with me and see if we see any tad poles or frogs?  
  
AJ: Well, do you have anything I could catch them with and put them in so I can take them home for pets?  
  
Frank walks over to a box of kitchen stuff, pulls out a Tupperware bowl and lid and says: This would be a good bowl for tadpoles.  
  
AJ: I don't know. It would need air holes so the tad pole could breathe.  
  
Frank picks up a knife and pokes holes: How's that?  
  
Trish: Frank, that was a good bowl.  
  
Frank: So I'll replace it. AJ needed a tadpole container. We'll see you in a bit. We've got frogs to catch.  
  
Harm: Did I just see what I thought I saw?  
  
Trish: He likes children and children like him.  
  
Harm: Since when?  
  
Trish: Since always. We baby-sit for several of his young executives, especially if they are going on a trip and can take their wives. Frank encourages them to get away. Young couples need a break. They trust us, so we keep their kids. Once we had four little boys under age seven for three days and nights. When their parents picked them up, we went to bed and slept for eleven hours!  
  
Mac: I'll bet you won't do that again!  
  
Trish: Sure we will. Next month, we have the same group again, only now it's five boys. The parent's trip yielded another dividend. He's eight months old.  
  
Harm: Mom, you mean he enjoys this?  
  
Trish: Let's say we're both very eager to have grandchildren. Enough talk. What can I do to help? Should I organize the kitchen?  
  
Harm: That's classified.  
  
Trish: Huh?  
  
Mac: Ill tell you later. Could you make up the bed in the front bedroom, Trish? Tiner may stay out here occasionally while we're gone.  
  
Trish: On your honeymoon?  
  
Harm: Mom, I thought I explained to you that Mac and I were going to be sent overseas on an assignment.  
  
Trish: Well, how long will you be gone, two weeks?  
  
Harm: Mom, actually it could be up to a year.  
  
Trish: What?  
  
Harm: The war is going to be a quick one, Mom. We've seen the intel on it. We'll be helping in the clean-up and rebuilding effort.  
  
Trish: It's not safe there yet.  
  
Harm: You're right, but we've both been to dangerous places before. That's why we get sent.  
  
Trish: Don't tell me any more. I pray every night that this won't be another Vietnam.  
  
Harm: I think that's foremost in the minds of the people at the Pentagon, Mom.  
  
Mac: We'll really just be pushing papers, Trish. Our combat duties are in our pasts.  
  
Trish: Harm's received more commendations for flying since he's been a lawyer than he ever did as an aviator. Please, I can't listen to more.  
  
Mac: Then trust me. I'll take care of him.  
  
Trish: Do you want to know my favorite dream?  
  
Harm: Besides six grandchildren?  
  
Trish: I'd like to live to see a three-generation picture of Rabb men.  
  
Mac: Me too.  
  
Harm stares out the window. 


	4. Chapter 4 Mission New Ground

I welcome reviews. This story is taking on a life of its own and taking over my life! So, should I finish it in such detail? I'm starting to wonder if Harm and Mac's one month engagement is going to take me one month to write!  
Chapter 4 Mission: New Ground  
2310 ZULU  
  
Home of Admiral AJ Chegwidden McLean, VA  
  
Mac and Harm, dressed casually, sit next to each other on the couch. Meredith Cavanaugh sits in a wing chair talking as the Admiral walks between the sliding glass doors to the patio and the kitchen.  
  
Admiral: Do you suppose something has happened to your mother and Frank, Harm?  
  
Meredith: AJ, they aren't that late.  
  
Mac: Just twelve minutes, sir.  
  
Admiral: Should I take the steaks off the grill? Those grilled vegetable pizzas are a little more tolerant of extra time on the grill, but I don't want anyone asking me for a rare steak and only being able to give them medium.  
  
Meredith: AJ, maybe you could turn down the grill. I think I hear a car now.  
  
Admiral: I'm going to pull those steaks off. If they are here, I'll put them back on.  
  
Meredith goes to the door and opens it.  
  
Meredith: Well, here you are!  
  
Trish: I'm sorry we were late. Frank had to rest and the time just got away from us.  
  
Frank: AJ, This is for you. Thank you for inviting us. (hands him a bottle of wine).  
  
AJ: Pinot grigio. You know the way to my heart. We're having red meat tonight, but I'll crack this for anyone who wants white.  
  
Trish: I'll just have red with dinner, thanks anyway.  
  
Frank: You heard the boss lady.  
  
AJ: Come on in and sit down. I'm just going to put the steaks on. What is your preferred doneness?  
  
Trish: Medium rare, AJ.  
  
Frank: Cremate mine.  
  
AJ: Meredith, I assume you want yours cooked medium?  
  
Meredith: You always know best. Mac, Harm, and I were just discussing the wedding ceremony. I was boring them with the evolution of the Protestant wedding ceremony since the Reformation.  
  
Harm: It wasn't boring. I'm just not sure I can "plight thee my troth". Maybe I should just type up something from pop music.  
  
Admiral: You wouldn't dare.  
  
Harm: Oh, I don't know, sir, I could probably do well if I limited myself to a theme, say Elvis music. I could say: Sarah, "I can't help falling in love with you," In fact, I'm a "hunka hunka burnin' love." Although "Wise men say, only fools rush in", You know, I'd drive through "Kentucky rain", To do this "My Way." So don't step on "My Blue Suede Shoes" And Let's make this "Jailhouse Rock". As soon as we get this ceremony over, We'll head on over to the "Heartbreak Hotel"  
  
Trish: Boo, hiss! Harm, this is incredibly bad!  
  
AJ: Did they require you to take literature courses at the Academy, Commander? Meredith, perhaps you could apply to teach a course or two at the Academy, if this is the caliber of literacy they are turning out these days. Besides, I thought you were going for a traditional ceremony. Commander, you've met Capt. Verdoni? Well, his daughter was married a few years ago and I went to the wedding. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but the vows were so pithy. They went something like this: Suzie, you make me happy. I want to make you happy too because I really, really, really love you. I like the way you wear your hair. I love the way you wear that red dress that you look so hot in. I can barely stand the heat when you get dressed up to go out. You share so much with me, like your car and your money. When I find a job, I'm going to share like that with you. That's how I show my love.  
  
Harm: Well, things are different these days.  
  
Admiral: Apparently not, because she divorced the guy six weeks after the wedding. I guess he wasn't so in love that he was working very hard at finding a job so he could share his care and his money.  
  
Meredith: That's an exaggeration, AJ. I've had students who have written lovely vows.  
  
Admiral: Stick with the "plighting your troths" or "pledging your faith". Mac could probably find a way to throw in a little Semper Fi, couldn't you Mac?  
  
Mac: I think I'll stick to the script, Admiral.  
  
Admiral: I'm going to grab those steaks, the grilled vegetable pizzas, and Rabb's grilled portabella, if you all want to get moving over to the table. Meredith, you can bring the salad in from the kitchen.  
  
They all make their ways to the table.  
  
Admiral sits at the head of the table.  
  
Admiral: I'd like to propose a toast. During my tenure as a naval officer, I have observed innumerable attractions, flirtations, and affairs between those who have been under my command. A few of those have blossomed into true affairs of the heart, or "marriage of true minds" as Shakespeare wrote in his Sonnet 116. In fact, allow me to quote the entire sonnet, as I believe it sums up the nature of your relationship.  
  
Let me not to the marriage of true minds, Admit impediments; love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark. Whose worth's unknown, although is highth be taken Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come, Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved. I never writ, nor no man ever loved.  
  
Because you have borne out to the edge of doom, a dozen times, may your love be "the ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken". To Sarah and Harmon. Cheers.  
  
Everyone: Cheers.  
  
Harm: Thank you sir, you even chose something that a pilot could understand, "ever-fixed marks" and "star to every wand'ring bark". Shakespeare had the navigational lingo down.  
  
Admiral: British poetry is rife with the imagery of the sea, Commander.  
  
Trish: I don't know. Do the British have a corner on the market in understanding? The "brief hours and weeks" before that bearing out "to the edge of doom"? (Pause) I apologize for being so maudlin. Times like this are melancholic for me. I am so disappointed that Harm's dad missed so much.  
  
Frank: (quietly) We probably should eat before the food gets cold.  
  
Meredith: Trish, can we take a little time tonight to discuss the rehearsal dinner here? I'd like to do anything I can to help you.  
  
Trish: After supper, we can go over my list from the caterers.  
  
Mac: Is there ever going to be an end to the lists?  
  
Harm: Sure. Saturday night. I promise no paper.  
  
Mac (under her breath): Harm. This probably isn't the place to discuss that.  
  
Frank: That reminds me. I was talking with the Concierge at the hotel today. I wasn't sure if you had made reservations and he assured me that you had, but I took the liberty of upgrading you to Penthouse suite.  
  
Harm: Frank-  
  
Mac: That was very kind of you, Frank.. We thank you, don't we, Harm?  
  
Frank: Don't worry, Harm. We won't be near you. All the rest of us are in the south wing of the hotel. You and Mac are in the east wing, so it's not as if you'll run into us if you run out for ice. I reserved a room for Mrs. Rabb, Bud and Harriet, one for each of the Russians, and for you, Admiral.  
  
Admiral: I don't need a room.  
  
Frank: Well, I didn't want anyone to be worried about his or her ability to drive home.  
  
Admiral: Do you think I would drive drunk?  
  
Frank: Oh, uh, well, probably not, Admiral. It's just that it will have been a long day.  
  
Mac: Bud and Harriet will probably enjoy the night away. They'll be missing sleep again very soon.  
  
Trish: I didn't want to be indelicate, but when is she due?  
  
Mac: She's due in July.  
  
Meredith: Oh, what a miracle it must be to carry life inside you!  
  
Admiral: Well, Bud and Harriet have certainly been successful in that category. I will just be relieved when she delivers this baby, at full term, in a hospital, attended by competent physicians.  
  
Mac: But Admiral, you were so good at delivering AJ! Even if you did utter the classic line, "Cover the medals". In fact, Harm and I thought we'd save time and just get you to deliver all of our kids, right there at JAG.  
  
Harm: Yep, all six of them.  
  
Admiral: Six? Six? Commander, you should have started on this mission right after that meeting in the Rose Garden.  
  
Harm: I know. (smiles at Mac)  
  
Mac smiles at Harm. (Is there anyone else in the room?)  
  
24 March 2003 0900 ZULU  
  
Senator Hotel Washington, DC  
  
Trish: Frank, are you up already?  
  
Frank: A man's got to get up pretty early in the morning to contend with Sarah Rabb.  
  
Trish: It's four o'clock in the morning!  
  
Frank: She's probably finished her first pot of coffee by now. Seriously, I want to get on the road by 4:30 to beat the traffic. I've got a good five- hour drive to the middle of nowhere and then back here. I'm sure that I'll be spent by the time I deal with that cantankerous old woman, so have a bottle of scotch ready for me when I get back.  
  
Trish: Her bark is far worse than her bite.  
  
Frank: Ever been locked in a moving vehicle for five hours with a pit bull?  
  
Trish: You're exaggerating again.  
  
Frank: You're right. She reserves her sarcasm just for me, the Imposter.  
  
Trish: Oh, I've been on the receiving end of it.  
  
Frank: When?  
  
Trish: When I told her I was remarrying.  
  
Frank: What were you supposed to do, wait forever?  
  
Trish: She did. She told me that no man would take Harm's place. I told her that I agreed, but that there was room in my heart to love again, there was, and I have.  
  
Frank: So, would you say that I'm a substitute?  
  
Trish: No, I'd say that you're a completion. We've had more years together that I did with Harm. Our love has matured and has weathered storms. My relationship with Harm was passionate and wild, here today, gone tomorrow. Grab the passion while its here; tomorrow the Navy may call and you'll be gone. Is it a lesser love when it's dependable and constant? Is there anything wrong with a love that grows deep amidst the soil of the tedium of everyday life?  
  
Frank: But it does sound - boring?  
  
Trish: What's more awful than living eleven years wondering where someone is? Even when Harm told me that he'd been in Russia and with that other woman, I thought, "Did he think of me? Were his last thoughts of me? So many unanswered questions that I could romanticize, but I have to look at you and see you for what you are, my constant, unwavering rock that has never let me down.  
  
Frank: Although I'm not good at much of anything other than business?  
  
Tricia: You've been a model at loving a fragile woman and her headstrong son.  
  
Frank: I think that this is just your pep talk for the berating I'll be taking from the other woman who has loved the Rabb men. I should be back for dinner. Make sure her room is ready for her.  
  
Trish: Drive safely.  
  
1430 ZULU  
  
Rabb Farm Belleville, Pennsylvania  
  
Frank drives into the lane. A wiry woman in her eighties stands in a denim dress on the front porch of a white clapboard single story farmhouse. She raises her hand in greeting.  
  
Sarah: Well Frank, I see you found your way.  
  
Frank: Well, Mrs. Rabb, the founders of Belleville certainly never saw a need to locate the town near anything resembling civilization.  
  
Sarah: Time was we didn't need to be. Farm towns like ours were self- sufficient. A body lived and died with a whole town knowing his business. I guess people now like to hide in big cities.  
  
Frank: Well, there are opportunities where there are people.  
  
Sarah: Well, I guess my husband and my son with their wanderlust got to see lots of people.  
  
Frank: Yes, they did. Look at your grandson and all the places he's been! He's had a wonderful career with the Navy.  
  
Sarah: Yes, he has. I'm glad he's putting down some roots now. What do you think of this girl?  
  
Frank: Oh, you haven't met her?  
  
Sarah: No. For years, I've watched Harm's face light up when he talks about her. I take it that she's a looker?  
  
Frank:. She's a beauty, but she has other charms to her credit. She's not the fluff type. She's more of a package deal, very bright, perceptive, and every bit Harm's equal.  
  
Sarah: Ha! She'll need to be. Rabb women have to be hardy to keep up with the Rabb men who fly off chasing windmills while their women hold it all together at home.  
  
Frank: I think Mac's chased a few windmills of her own, Mrs. Rabb.  
  
Sarah: Yes, well, time's are changing, aren't they? Trish didn't want to come with you?  
  
Frank: She would have, but she's taking care of some details for Mac and Harm. Can I get your bags and put them in the car?  
  
Sarah: We're not taking the car.  
  
Frank: What?  
  
Sarah: I had some things that I wanted Harm to have, so I rented that trailer over there and hitched it to my pickup. We'll take the pickup and then when you bring me back next week, you can pick up your car.  
  
Frank: What? I didn't know anything about moving stuff.  
  
Sarah: What's the big deal? When I heard Harm bought a farm, I decided to give him some things that rightfully belong to him while he's setting up housekeeping.  
  
They walk over toward the pick up with the trailer attached. Frank looks in.  
  
Frank: Is there anything left in the house?  
  
Sarah: Yes, I kept a small single bed and a few things. A person doesn't need much when she's my age. Age is the great values disseminator, Frank.. Why should Harm buy a bunch of furniture to fill up a house, only for me to have a house full of furniture, some of which has been in our family for several generations, and have nobody to sleep on in or sit on it?  
  
Frank: Well, I guess we'll just head on.  
  
Sarah: I'll get my pocketbook. (Locks the door).  
  
Sarah: Well, good-bye, house. Don't let your roof blow off while I'm gone!  
  
Frank: Do you have someone checking on the place?  
  
Sarah: The son of a neighbor stops by and does little things for me. He helped me load the trailer. He's a nice kid, been in a little trouble. I think his parents have him work for me because I can tolerate bratty young men with no direction. They just need lots of hard physical work and a swift kick in the pants when they mess up. With those things and a little direction, they come out okay.  
  
Frank: Maybe I should hire you to run our management trainee program.  
  
Sarah: Ha! You probably have too many smart college boys who've never done an honest day's work in their lives, kind of like you were.  
  
Frank: (to himself) I knew this conversation was going too well.  
  
Sarah (not noticing his comment): How is the car business these days?  
  
Frank: Well, not without its problems.  
  
Sarah: Our new minister stopped by to see me yesterday and I told him you were a car salesman.  
  
Frank: Mrs. Rabb, I'm not a car salesman. I'm an executive with Chrysler.  
  
Sarah: And what does Chrysler do?  
  
Frank: Well, we do many things.  
  
Sarah: Primarily?  
  
Frank: Well, we build automobiles.  
  
Sarah: For what purpose?  
  
Frank: Well, to sell them.  
  
Sarah: Like I said, car salesman.  
  
Frank helps her into the truck goes around and gets into a 1981 Ford pick up.  
  
Frank: Still have the same truck, I see.  
  
Sarah: It's been a good one.  
  
Frank: You know, after this wedding, I'm going to make arrangements for you to have a new Dodge pickup, an automatic, with all the options on it, air conditioning, power windows and locks.  
  
Sarah: A Dodge? I only drive Fords.  
  
Frank: All right then, I can arrange for you to have a new Ford.  
  
Sarah: Why would I want to do that? This pickup and I know each other. I don't want to learn where things are on a new truck.  
  
Frank: Well, it was the thought that counts, I guess.  
  
Sarah: Now, if you'll take a right at the County Road, I know a shortcut. It'll save us twenty minutes.  
  
Frank: But how's the road? We're pulling quite a load.  
  
Sarah: You want me to drive?  
  
Frank: Just let me know where we turn.  
  
Sarah: The gas tank is full. I packed us a lunch. No sense spending money eating in restaurants. Those interstate restaurants don't have home cooking anyway, just a bunch of frozen cardboard meals.  
  
Frank: Let me know when you want to stop. You can doze off, if you're feeling tired.  
  
Sarah: I do not rest until after lunch. We can just have a nice visit while you drive.  
  
Frank: Whatever you say, Mrs. Rabb.  
  
2000 ZULU  
  
The pickup swerves and Frank jerks the steering wheel and brings the pickup to a stop on the side of the road.  
  
Sarah: Did you fall asleep?  
  
Frank: No, I think we just blew a tire. I'll go check..  
  
Sarah starts to get out.  
  
Frank: Mrs. Rabb, I think you should stay in. Traffic is moving too fast for you to be out here.  
  
Sarah: I have to get out. You probably can't change a flat.  
  
Frank: Of course, I can. Now where's the spare?  
  
Sarah: Open your eyes, man. It's in the bed of the pickup.  
  
Frank: Okay. Now this will take a few minutes.  
  
Sarah: Don't you belong to the auto club?  
  
Frank: No, do you?  
  
Sarah: I can change my own flat. Why would I waste money on the Auto Club? That's why I figured you belonged.  
  
A car pulls in behind them. A young man gets out and says, "Do you need some help?"  
  
Frank: Well, we seem to have blown a tire.  
  
Sarah: He doesn't know how to change a flat.  
  
Frank: Mrs. Rabb, I do know how to change a flat. I was just preparing.  
  
Man: Look, sir, why don't I help you? Ma'am, I'm traveling with my young son in a car seat. Would you mind sitting in the car with him in case he wakes up and starts to cry?  
  
Sarah: That's the least I can do. I love children. We're on our way to my grandson's wedding. I hope he gives me some great-grandchildren soon.  
  
Frank watches her as she walks away.  
  
Frank: I can't thank you enough. I haven't changed a tire in forty years.  
  
Man: Traveling with your mother-in-law?  
  
Frank: Worse. My wife's mother-in-law.  
  
Man: She's your mother?  
  
Frank: No, she's my wife's first husband's mother. Her son was shot down in Vietnam.  
  
Man: No wonder she likes you so much.  
  
Frank: I'm going to discreetly hand you some money. Do not mention it in front of the old lady. Try to make it look as if I know what I'm doing as we change this flat.  
  
Man: Buddy, you don't need to pay me.  
  
Frank: I WANT to pay you.  
  
They quickly change the tire, throw the old one in the back of the pickup.  
  
The man walks back to his car.  
  
Man: Did he wake up?  
  
Sarah: Sure, but I took him out of his car seat and held him and he went back to sleep.  
  
Man: He wasn't afraid?  
  
Sarah: No, I have a way with babies.  
  
Man: Thank you ma'am.  
  
Sarah: Thank you, young man.  
  
Man: Oh I just helped a little.  
  
Sarah: You did not. You saved Frank's bacon. I hope he paid you well. He has lots of money.  
  
Man: He's a nice guy.  
  
Sarah: Of course he is, but I can't let him know that! (She winks).  
  
2200 ZULU  
  
RABB FARM Loudin County, VA  
  
Harm (from front porch, watches Mac drive in): Hey there, pretty lady. Doing anything on Saturday/  
  
Mac (getting out of the car): What'd you have in mind?  
  
Harm: I don't know. You want to become the mother of my children? I have lots of bedrooms in this house that need to be filled.  
  
Mac: Are you offering me a position as your brood mare?  
  
Harm: Well, I am such a stud!  
  
Mac: Well, watch your step or you'll become a gelding.  
  
They kiss on the porch.  
  
Mac: Hello, Harm.  
  
Harm: Hello, Sarah. How was your last day of work as a single woman?  
  
Mac: Busy. My desk is cleared and I'm ready to move on.  
  
Harm: Did you see the roof?  
  
Mac: Did they get started?  
  
Harm: Yep. They have the back finished. Tomorrow they'll finish the front and the porches.  
  
Mac: That's one more thing off my mind. I kept worrying about heavy rains and damage while we're gone.  
  
Harm looks out and grins. I think I see Frank and Grandma.  
  
Mac: That's not Frank. That's an old pickup with a trailer. It must be one of the neighbors.  
  
Harm: No, that's Grandma's pickup.  
  
Mac: They drove two hundred and eighty miles in an old pickup.  
  
Harm: With an AM radio and worn out shocks. Frank must be a bundle of nerves about now.  
  
Mac: Well, do you think she'll like me?  
  
Harm: Yes, but if she doesn't, I'll just have to love you double.  
  
Mac: You are okay, flyboy.  
  
Harm: Hello Grandma!  
  
Sarah: Hello, Harmie. This is a great place you've picked here. Love the porches, watch the sun come up on the back porch and the sun set on the front porch.  
  
Harm: That's kind of what we thought. Grandma, this is my fiancée, Sarah MacKenzie.  
  
Mac: Mrs. Rabb, I'm so happy to meet you. Harm's spoken of you many times.  
  
Sarah: He's been talking about you for years. I'm glad he finally did something besides talking. You've got good taste in farms and good taste in men. Oh, and don't call me Mrs. Rabb, I'm "Grandma".  
  
Mac: Thank you, Grandma. Would you like to see the house?  
  
The two women walk into the house together.  
  
Harm: Frank, was your trip all right?  
  
Frank: Oh, just fine. I'm going to drop a flat at the gas station down the road on my way out. Can you pick it up tomorrow?  
  
Harm: You got a flat?  
  
Frank: On the interstate, not on one of those Pennsylvania two-lane winding highways, thankfully.  
  
Harm: Grandma didn't change it, did she?  
  
Frank: No, but she was going to. A guy stopped and helped me.  
  
Harm: Why did you bring the pickup?  
  
Frank: I think your grandmother emptied her house as a wedding gift to you. She didn't let me in the house to see, but that trailer is full of furniture.  
  
Harm: I thought she was bringing me some household items, a couple of quilts.  
  
Frank: Guess again, Harm.  
  
Harm: (calls to the house) Grandma, what do you think this is, the Salvation Army? Redecorating your house so you thought you'd get rid of the old stuff by bringing it to me?  
  
Sarah: I can give it to someone else.  
  
Harm: Don't you dare.  
  
Frank: I'm going to unhitch the trailer and take the truck back to the hotel. I'll arrange for another rental car to be delivered to the hotel in the morning. Mrs. Rabb, Trish is expecting us at the hotel for dinner. We have a nice room for you there.  
  
Sarah: I'm not staying at the hotel. Young Sarah has a nice room here all made up for me. I'm going to help them unpack this stuff tonight. Tomorrow the roofers will be here working so I'll need to supervise them. You just take the truck back to the hotel and don't worry about me. I'm more comfortable here where I can smell the dirt.  
  
Frank: But Mrs. Rabb.  
  
Harm: Frank, you've delivered her here safely. You can't do any more. She'll be fine here. You heard her. Mac and I will take her to the café in town for supper. It's fine. Tell Mom I love her. You look like you need a Scotch.  
  
Frank: Your mother is icing down the glass as we speak!  
25 March 2003  
  
1100 ZULU  
  
Rabb Farm Loudin County, VA  
  
Mac drives down the farm lane in her Corvette.  
  
Sarah Rabb appears on the porch.  
  
Sarah: Morning, dear.  
  
Mac: Morning, Grandma. I brought some eggs, bacon, milk, cheese, and coffee.  
  
Sarah: Good, dear. I've been up since 4. I took a little walk to get familiar with the place. What time will the workers get here?  
  
Mac: Probably not till eight.  
  
Sarah: Let me help you, dear. I will rustle up some breakfast for us. Then we can have a nice visit.  
  
Mac: I think Trish and Frank will be coming out mid-morning. This afternoon, Harm will pick up Sergei at the airport. I'll bring him out here.  
  
Sarah: Well, that will be interesting, meeting a grandson I never knew I had. Sarah, this kitchen is too small. Who lived here, a bachelor farmer?  
  
Mac: Harm thinks the same thing. I haven't told him yet, but I've arranged to add on a new kitchen, as a wedding present to him. We'll use this room as a family room. The kitchen will be open to it.  
  
Sarah: Why would a man want a kitchen for a wedding present?  
  
Mac: Because he loves to cook, and he's a good cook.  
  
Sarah: Well, he may as well cook his own food. I never have seen a man with such peculiar eating habits. Must be all those years in California. How many pieces of bacon, dear?  
  
Mac: Four's good.  
  
Sarah: Glad to see you eat like a normal person.  
  
Mac: Harm thinks I have horrible eating habits.  
  
Sarah: Well, you look good and healthy to me. Now, tell me about how this kitchen is going to look. It'll be a shame to lose this wall of windows.  
  
Mac: We're not losing them. They will be taken out and placed in the new outside wall of the kitchen.  
  
Sarah: You do think of everything, don't you dear? When are you going to tell Harm?  
  
Mac: Early Friday morning. We're coming out here to have breakfast together and exchange gifts.  
  
Sarah: In that case, I'll stay at the hotel with Frank and Trish on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. That'll make Trish happy. Speaking of Trish, how many dresses has she bought me?  
  
Mac: Why do you assume she's bought you dresses?  
  
Sarah: Well, I've known her for over forty years. I brought a ratty old house dress from the seventies that I'll need to put on before she gets here. I love to see the shocked look she gets on her face. Then, I went to the Thrift store in State College last week and I found an old aqua polyester dress in the retro section. I'm going to tell her that's what I'm wearing to the wedding.  
  
Mac: Have you always teased her like this?  
  
Sarah: Not at first, no. She was such a serious person when I first met her. Then, after Harm was, well, missing, she seemed so fragile. I guess it was after she married Frank that she became stronger and I thought I should help her not take herself so seriously.  
  
Mac; Was that hard on you, when Trish remarried?  
  
Sarah: Well, she thinks it was. I was happy for her. I knew it would be hard on Harmon. I encouraged her to wait until he was in college first, but she had to have Frank then. Teen-agers are at a difficult stage. He was still trying to figure things out when, boom, hello new step-father. He was not very nice to Frank. When she asked me for advice, I said, "I told you so." She took that as a "you don't like Frank" comment, so I've just played along. I love to needle Frank.  
  
Mac: But you never remarried.  
  
Sarah: Well, I had my chances, of course.  
  
Mac: Undoubtedly.  
  
Sarah: There was never anyone else that seemed to fit into my life. I had my Harmon to raise, and my parents and my husband's parents to look after. Then there was the farm. I guess it was just more acceptable to remain unmarried back then. After Harmon was grown and the grandparents were all gone, I guess I just didn't feel like bothering having some old guy to take care of.  
  
Mac: Was it hard, raising Harm's dad alone?  
  
Sarah: Well, sometimes, yes. I did have both families nearby to help me though. And Harm, Sr. loved his grandparents, especially his grandfathers. I guess we just fell into a routine of how we did things.  
  
Mac: Is Harm like his dad?  
  
Sarah: Funny you should ask that. When we drove in yesterday and Harm was standing on the porch, it gave me a start. I thought he was his dad. They move alike, both so tall and graceful. Their personalities have a few similarities, but your Harm is much more serious than his father was. His father was the life of the party type. He was a good pilot and took his career very seriously, but he wasn't a brooder as Harm Jr. is.  
  
Mac: Do YOU think he is a brooder?  
  
Sarah: Oh, my yes. We saw signs of it early on. He was such a serious little boy. He was surly as a teen-ager, as most are, but then when he had his accident, he became more so.  
  
Mac: He came and stayed with you during his recuperation.  
  
Sarah: Well, he started out with Trish and Frank. That was never going to work because Trish is a brooder too. Frank is so gentle with Trish that he'd never just come out and tell her to leave Harm alone, so I offered for him to come to the farm with me. I gave him the Stearman and that gave him an outlet for his pain. He worked for hours on it without speaking. Hard work can never be overrated as therapy for grief.  
  
Mac: Is that what you think helped him, work?  
  
Sarah: Well, Harm has always had a problem thinking that he was the cause of every effect. With him, things don't just happen for reasons we don't understand. He blames himself. I think he, in some strange way, blames himself that his dad never came home, that he wasn't enough to alleviate his mother's loneliness, that Diane was killed. There are so many things that he internalizes. I think that's why he's never married. He sees it as opening himself up to the pain of being transparent with another human being. He's come a long way to get to the point where you two are today.  
  
Mac: So, what's your advice to me on how to love him?  
  
Sarah: Well, you've tamed the wild heart that nobody else could. I would say to be gentle, underneath all that bravado is a scared boy. Be firm, because he respects strong women.  
  
Mac: Maybe he needs a daughter to give him a new perspective on things.  
  
Sarah: That would be interesting. My advice to you is to have more than one child. That's a great regret of my life. I didn't have much choice because of when I lost my husband. I do think Trish regrets the fact that they never had another.  
  
Mac: Why didn't they?  
  
Sarah: You'd have to ask her that, because she never said. Harm, Sr. indicated to me once that she never was able to get pregnant again. I wondered if she and Frank would have another child because she was technically young enough when they married, but they never did. That probably would have put Harm totally over the edge.  
  
Mac: He's very sweet with Sergei.  
  
Sarah: He's older and has grown . I heard that Sergei has the Rabb smile, is that true?  
  
Mac: That and the fact that he's stubborn made a believer out of me!  
  
Sarah: Do you and Harm plan to start a family soon, not that it's any of my business?  
  
Mac: Of course, it's your business. Yes, we do. My biological clock is ticking; I know I want children. I thought I'd have been married long before this age, and I was married once but it didn't last.  
  
Sarah: He's dead anyway, isn't he?  
  
Mac: Yes.  
  
Sarah: Do you have regrets that you didn't marry Mr. Bugme?  
  
Mac: Brumby. His name is Mic Brumby.  
  
Sarah: Oh, my dear, Harm only ever called him Bugme. I thought it was an odd name, but he is Australian.  
  
Mac: No, I did the right thing. I was marrying him because I wanted to be married. I wanted children. He'd have given all of that to me.  
  
Sarah: Sometimes a warm body to hold is tempting.  
  
Mac: But it's not worth it if your dream still has a possibility of coming true.  
  
Sarah: Do you have your dream now?  
  
Mac: Harm is all I ever wanted in a man.  
  
Sarah: Then I think you'll do just fine.  
  
Mac: Grandma, there's one little thing that I need to ask you. You've lost your husband and a son to war. Does it ever scare you that you might lose Harm too?  
  
Sarah: Yes it does, but not as much as I think it scares you. Have you ever seen the movie "Oklahoma", Sarah?  
  
Mac: The musical?  
  
Sarah: That's the one. In it, Aunt Eller says to Laurie that women need to be hearty. In this life, you'll see joy and pain, birth and deaths. Most women bury their husbands, Sarah. God made women to be hearty. Don't spend your time worrying about the little things. Love him while he's with you. If the worst happens, maybe he will have left a piece of him with you. That's what my husband did. That's what Harm's father did for Trish. We both found great comfort in our children. They gave us the reason to get up out of bed in the morning and face the world. Now, I have something for you.  
  
Mac: You've given us so much already. This house looks great with all the antiques you brought, the quilts, and the old cradle..  
  
Sarah: Do you believe in that saying "Something old, something new, something borrowed?  
  
Mac: Yes.  
  
Sarah: Good. This brooch belonged to my mother. The stone is a sapphire. I had a slide back put on the pin so that it can be worn as a slide on a strand of pearls.  
  
Mac: Thank you. It's beautiful. I'm borrowing Harriet's pearls for the wedding, so I can just wear this on it. I'm sure, over the years, I'll wear the brooch often.  
  
Sarah: It's understated and elegant, like you.  
  
Mac: Nobody's ever called me elegant before, just tough.  
  
Sarah: Don't you think that tough is elegant?  
  
1900 ZULU  
  
Rabb Farm Loudin County, VA  
  
Mac: Grandma Sarah, I think they're here.  
  
Sarah: Oh, I was just getting up from my rest, dear. Do I look okay?  
  
Mac: You're gorgeous. Why, are you nervous?  
  
Sarah: Well, it's not every day that a woman meets a new grandson.  
  
Mac: He's a great guy. Harm loves him very much.  
  
Sarah: Well, the idea just takes some getting used to.  
  
Harm: (walks in the door, puts his arm around Mac, and kisses her quickly): Hi, how has your day been?  
  
Mac: We've had a great day together.  
  
Harm: My two Sarahs.  
  
Mac: Where's Sergei?  
  
Harm: He's looking the place over. He'll be here in a minute. He's a little nervous.  
  
Sarah: I can understand that.  
  
Sergei walks in the door with an nervous smile on his face.  
  
Sergei: Hi Mac.  
  
Harm: Grandma, may I introduce Sergei Zhukov. Sergei, this is your grandmother, Sarah Rabb.  
  
Sergei: I am happy to meet you.  
  
Sarah: I am happy to meet you. Did you have a good flight?  
  
Sergei: Yes. Galena, she is my fiancée, was also on the plane. She will be back on Saturday for the wedding, but first she makes another trip.  
  
Sarah: When is it that you plan to be married?  
  
Sergei: We haven't set the date yet. When we are married, Harm will be my best man. You will come to Russia too. You can meet my people.  
  
Sarah: I think that's very nice of you to ask.  
  
Sergei: I'm lucky to have him for my brother, and I am also lucky to have you.  
  
Sarah: Would you care to go for a walk, Sergei? I'd like to walk down this country road to enjoy the spring weather. I probably should have someone with me in case I can't walk back.  
  
Sergei: I would like that, very much.  
  
Sarah Rabb and Sergei walk out the front door, across the front porch and down the steps toward the farm lane. After just a few minutes, Sergei throws back his head and laughs. Sarah stops and stares at his expression whereupon she takes his arm and continues down the lane.  
  
Mac and Harm watch them leave.  
  
Harm: She sees the resemblance.  
  
Mac: Did you ever think what a great gift this is to her? She has two pieces of your dad to enjoy now, you and Sergei.  
  
Harm: It seems that all the pieces of my life are falling together. I have the woman I love. I have a brother. My career is great. How did I ever get so fortunate?  
  
Mac: You fell in love with a Marine.  
  
Harm: Semper fi, Mac, semper fi.  
  
Harm and Mac stand on the front porch of their farmhouse contentedly looking out over the black earth of freshly planted fields.  
  
Next Chapter: The ladies spend the day at the spa. The men go on their camping trip. 


	5. Chapter 5 Mission Paint Ball

The lyrics to "Desperado" are the intellectual property of others.  
Chapter 5  
  
25 March 2003  
  
Rabb Farm Loudin County, Virginia  
  
The driveway area between the house and the barn is filled with various cars, trucks, and SUV's, giving the peaceful farm the air of a college tailgating party. Car trunks are open, revealing sleeping bags, backpacks, and coolers of food.  
  
Mac and Sarah Rabb survey this spectacle and the nine men who seem to vie for the title of the rowdiest member of the group.  
  
Mac: How much food is necessary for ten men and twenty-four hours?  
  
Admiral: Colonel, how much food is not the point; how much beer is very much the point.  
  
Mac: Do you think you should be discharging firearms while drunk?  
  
Admiral: We won't be. The paintball begins tomorrow; the beer is for tonight.  
  
Mac: All of it, sir?  
  
Admiral: We're giving the Commander quite the "Hail and Farewell".  
  
Mac: Oh, I understand the "Farewell", but what's the "Hail"?  
  
Admiral: Colonel, Commander Rabb, is about to "hail" a conquest that every man here has, at the least, entertained as a fleeting thought.  
  
Mac: Admiral, red light!  
  
Admiral chuckles.  
  
Harm: I'm sorry, Admiral, I can't imagine what's keeping Frank.  
  
Admiral: He's a civilian, Rabb. Maybe he didn't understand my instructions for 1800 sharp. I'll start giving the preliminaries on how this adventure is going to proceed. EVERYBODY, can I have your attention, please? Welcome to the Great Premarital Camping Extravaganza. We have enough bachelors in the crowd that, if all goes well, we could make this an annual event. By way of some basic rules, I have obtained permission from several landowners on this road to use their land. You must stay on the east side of this county road. We are to be respectful of freshly plowed and planted fields, but we may use the stone rows to cross the fields. Generally speaking, we should stay in the woods surrounding the fields. Webb and I are the two team captains. Sergei, Harm, Gunny, and Frank are on Webb's team. Gunny, Alex, Tiner, Bud, and Turner are with me.  
  
A car slowly pulls into the driveway.  
  
Harm: Here comes Frank.  
  
Trish drives the car and brings it to a stop. Frank gets out, and Harm stifles a laugh. Frank is dressed as if he has stepped out of the pages of L.L. Bean's Hunting and Fishing catalog. Every item of clothing appears to be stiff from the factory sizing.  
  
Harm: Frank, did you get some new duds for the trip?  
  
Frank: Well, you know, Harm, I just didn't own anything for camping, so I just ordered some things that looked neat. This vest came with a compass, a Swiss army knife with twenty blades, a GPS, you name, and it has it. Some of the stuff is even hidden in secret pockets.  
  
Harm: Well, keep that to yourself, the Admiral may confiscate it.  
  
Frank: Oh, mum's the word.  
  
Admiral: Frank, glad you could join us. Harm can brief you on what I've covered thus far. This is our schedule. We will leave here in about ten minutes. If you can't carry it, don't bring it. We're walking out of here. We will set up camp, cook our meal, and sack out. Tomorrow we begin the game. I have paintball guns and ammo for each of you. We will not be playing by standard paint ball game rules in that you may be shot more than once. Each of you will carry three bandanas. When you are hit, you must give up a bandana to the opponent who shot you. Once you are out of flags, you are dead and must become a POW in the opponents' POW camp. Each team will get a cooler. That cooler is your team's flag. You can hide it or carry it with you, but if it is captured, the game is over. If neither flag is captured, the game will be decided on the number of bandanas each team has captured.  
  
The paintball guns come with facemasks. You must wear your facemasks at all times during the game. These paint balls cannot hurt you, but they could put out an eye if you were hit in the eye.  
  
Each team will receive one GPS. I'll write down the coordinates of the boundaries that we must stay within. In addition to the GPS, I will give each team an emergency flare gun. Webb, your team will have yellow; my team has blue. If you have an emergency that involves calling back members of your own team, you fire the flare that is the color of your team. If you have an emergency that demands all of us, fire the red flare that I'll give you. Once we go to bed tonight, your team may leave the camp area at any time after 0300. The game is called at 1800 tomorrow, win, lose, or draw. Cell phones must be left at the camp area. You may not use cell phones or radios to communicate with each other.  
  
Ladies, (motioning to Mac, Sarah, and Trish) say good-bye and meet us here at about 1900 tomorrow.  
  
Sarah walks over and hugs Harm and Sergei. Trish whispers something in Frank's ear and hugs Harm. The group begins to gather their gear and head for the woods behind the barn. Mac and Harm linger behind.  
  
Mac: Wish I were going.  
  
Harm: Me too. It's been a long time since survival school. Besides, it may get cold tonight; I could use you in my sleeping bag.  
  
Mac: We could play this game on Saturday night.  
  
Harm: Not a chance. Although, it may be a foreshadowing of our lives in Iraq!  
  
Harm kisses her quickly.  
  
Harm: I'll see you soon.  
  
Mac: You can count on it.  
  
The ten men begin their hike into the Virginia woods, unaware that they are being watched closely through field glasses.  
2400 ZULU  
  
Loudin County, Virgina woods about two miles from Rabb's farm.  
  
Admiral: I think we'll make camp here. Gunny, get a fire going so we can heat up that chili. Who's got the shovel?  
  
Tiner: I do.  
  
Admiral: Well, I'm going to take it over there into the woods. Let's designate that area as the "shovel" area. It's down wind from us.  
  
Frank slips next to Harm and whispers: What's the shovel area? Are we digging foxholes?  
  
Harm whispers: Frank, the shovel is to dig a hole to go to the bathroom.  
  
Frank: Can't you just pee behind a tree?  
  
Harm: Yes, you can, but I'm not talking about peeing.  
  
Frank: OH, OH!  
  
Alex: Gentlemen, it's time to bring out this evening's beverages. I believe that each of us was to bring a representative beverage to share. I, of course, brought good Russian vodka.  
  
Webb: I brought a case of imported German lager.  
  
Tiner: I forgot so I just swung by the gas station and picked up a six pack of Bud.  
  
Gunny: I have Corona.  
  
Sturgis: I brought a microbrew.  
  
Bud: I brought a case of water. I figured we might need it for coffee and other things.  
  
Sergei: I brought good, American Miller Lite, less filling, tastes great.  
  
Frank: I brought a bottle of Chivas Regal.  
  
Harm: Guys, I didn't know about bringing something.  
  
Admiral (rejoining the group): I brought some Heineken.  
  
Let's get our mess stuff out and go to work on the chili that's in that blue cooler. Bud, there's a smaller container with vegetarian chili for the Commander. Let's get going on the chow.  
  
The men quickly heat the chili and settle in around the fire. The various types of beer are opened first and consumed with the meal.  
  
Webb: Admiral, can we have a half-hour or so to separate and strategize with our team members before we're all so drunk we can't stand?  
  
Admiral: That's an excellent idea, Webb.  
  
The group breaks into two groups and quietly makes plans for the next day's activity. Soon Webb's group breaks up and returns to the fire area.  
  
Admiral: I forgot to tell you, inside your cooler, which is your flag, is a first aid kit in case you get any minor injuries.  
  
Frank: My new vest comes with its own first aid kit too. You should see all the things  
  
Harm: Frank, did I hear you say you brought some whiskey?  
  
Frank: Yes, did you want some?  
  
Harm: I don't, but someone else might.  
  
Webb exchanges a knowing glance with Harm.  
  
Soon the group falls into a reverie, staring at the fire.  
  
Sturgis: Well, I suppose since this event is substituting for the traditional bachelor party, I ought to propose a toast, at the least. To Harmon Rabb, Jr., I never thought I'd see him be so smart.  
  
Harm: I've bested you in court enough times; you've seen me smart.  
  
Sturgis: Not with women, I haven't.  
  
The entire group laughs.  
  
Bud: To Commander Rabb, my mentor. May your marriage be as filled with joy as mine has.  
  
Harm: Thank you, Bud. You can be my mentor as I learn to be a husband.  
  
Admiral: To Commander Rabb, may your marriage last a whole lot longer than mine did!  
  
The group laughs more.  
  
Tiner: To Commander Rabb, may this be the first in a series of JAG weddings.  
  
Admiral: Tiner, this is supposed to be a toast, not a curse.  
  
Tiner: Why do you guys always talk as if marriage is such a curse? I know the Admiral's dying to close the deal with Meredith. Commander Turner tries to visit Capital Hill every chance he gets to sweet-talk a certain Congresswoman. Gunny, well, Gunny keeps fighting them off with a stick. Frank, you're married. Sergei: I'll be honest, buddy. After that Lt. Singer, may God rest her soul, deal, you need to work on your tastes a little.  
  
Sergei: I'm engaged.  
  
Alex: Really? To an American?  
  
Sergei: No, she's a flight attendant, a Russian.  
  
Alex: With Russian women, better a flight attendant than a weight lifter!  
  
Tiner: As I was saying, Mr. Webb, does the State Department or whoever you really work for, let you get married?  
  
Webb: It's less complicated if you don't.  
  
Alex: Whom do you work for?  
  
Webb: It's classified.  
  
Alex: Oh, CIA.  
  
Gunny: Okay, enough of this. It's my turn for a toast. To Commander Rabb, a Navy man who saw the light, shining in the eyes of a beautiful Marine.  
  
Group: OOH RAH!  
  
Sergei: To my brother, may you give me many nephews and nieces.  
  
The group laughs.  
  
Webb: To Commander Rabb, may our partnerships continue our past successes.  
  
Harm: Otherwise, buy stock in United Mortuaries.  
  
Bud: That's not funny, sir.  
  
Harm: Bud, we're out of the office, call me something other than sir.  
  
Bud: Okay, Commander.  
  
Frank: To Harm, I met him when he was a boy; now he's the man I never could be.  
  
Harm: We're just different, Frank.  
  
Alex: Nastrovia, Harm.  
  
Group: Nastrovia.  
  
Sturgis returns to the group carrying the shovel.  
  
Sturgis: Okay, who didn't use the shovel?  
  
Bud: What? Somebody didn't use the shovel?  
  
Sturgis: No, and I stepped in it.  
  
The group begins to laugh hysterically.  
  
Admiral: Okay, gentlemen, I must insist that we use the shovel. It is an American custom.  
  
Sergei and Alex: In some Russian villages, it's an every day occurrence.  
  
Sturgis walks away from the group and scrapes his boot on a rock.  
  
Sturgis: Don't anyone use this rock for a seat.  
  
Sturgis walks back to the group.  
  
Sturgis: I thought of a song that represents Harm's marathon course to find a wife. Do you guys think we're drunk enough to sing it yet?  
  
Harm: I don't know about that, but I'm not drunk enough to hear you sing.  
  
Sturgis begins: "Desperado, why don't you come to your senses? You've been out ridin' fences for so long now. Oh, you're a hard one. I know that you've got your reasons These things that are pleasin' you Can hurt you somehow.  
  
Group: Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy. She'll beat you if she's able You know the queen of hearts is your best bet.  
  
Now it seems to me, some fine things Have been laid upon your table But you only want the ones that you can't get.  
  
Desperado, oh you ain't getting' no younger. Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home. ` And freedom, oh, freedom well, that just some people talkin'. Your prison is walking through this world all alone.  
  
Don't your feet get cold in the wintertime? The sky won't snow and sun won't shine It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day. You're losin' all your highs and lows Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away.  
  
Desperado, why don't you come to you senses? Come down from your fences, open the gate It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you You better let somebody love you, before it's too late.  
  
Group: It seems you've let somebody love you, before it's too late.  
  
Harm: Why didn't you guys bring me out here, fill me full of beer, and sing that to me about five years ago? I could be so much farther along. I could have a good start on those nephews and nieces Sergei wants.  
  
Admiral: You still had fences to ride, Harm. Nobody could have told you then, no matter how many of us saw it.  
  
Harm: Saw what?  
  
Bud: You're kidding, right sir?  
  
Harm: What? What did everyone see that I was too obtuse to see?  
  
Alex: Harm, the woman followed you all over the world.  
  
Bud: Yeah, in Australia you kept trying to see over her magazine to see if she was topless or not. What was that? Professional uniform courtesy?  
  
Harm: You were the one who got in trouble for looking at bare breasts, Bud.  
  
Sergei: Mac was topless? Wow!  
  
Harm: NO. She just looked like she might be and that creep Bugme was sitting there with this stupid grin on his face. I was just trying to protect the honor of a colleague.  
  
Webb: Sorry, Harm. I worked too many cases with the two of you. There have been too many looks, too many "working dinners".  
  
Bud: Yeah, and every time you get a bump on the head, the first thing you think about or talk about or imagine you see is Colonel MacKenzie.  
  
Alex: So, you two never, you know?  
  
Harm: No, and we still haven't.  
  
Group, except Sturgis and Bud: WHAT?  
  
Harm: So, fellas, you have to get me back in once piece for Saturday night because that' s the big night.  
  
Webb: Harm, you and I are going to need to have private conversation.  
  
Harm: Well, I'm too tired for it now. I'm hitting the rack after I take a trip into the woods to christen a pine tree.  
  
Gunny: You know, we could have some fun and make some money at the same time. Commander, how much do you think it'd be worth to the Colonel to get you there for Saturday night?  
  
Sturgis: Oh, do you really think he's that necessary? One of us could surely fill in.  
  
Harm: Ha, Ha!  
  
The members of the group begin to roll out their sleeping bags and arrange them around the fire.  
  
Frank: Hey, we really didn't touch either the vodka or the whiskey.  
  
Admiral: Frank, put a bottle in each of the coolers. They'll be good disinfectants if someone gets a cut tomorrow.  
  
Bud: Commander Turner, where's the shovel?  
  
Harm: It's over here by Sturgis' rock. I'll dig the hole for you, Bud.  
  
Bud: You're a pal, Harm.  
  
Admiral: My team needs to do a fast sleep.  
  
Webb: My team needs to be not hung over tomorrow.  
  
The group falls asleep around the fire.  
  
Crawling under a group of pine trees about two hundred yards from the camp, two men clad in black silently arrange pine needles to make a nest to catch a few hours of sleep. A third takes the first watch of the night.  
  
0830 ZULU  
  
Admiral shakes Bud.  
  
Admiral: Time to move out, Bud.  
  
Bud: Oh, my head. What time is it?  
  
Admiral: 0330. We're a half-hour later than what we could have been.  
  
Bud: Breakfast, sir?  
  
Admiral: I have MRE's. We will take some coffee, set up another camp and make coffee. Help me get Tiner, Turner, and Alex up.  
  
Admiral Chegwidden and Bud quietly wake the other members of their teams. The team members pull on their boots, grab their face masks and paintball guns, and shrug themselves into jackets. One by one, they disappear into the trees, then return to pick up backpacks which were packed the night before with supplies needed for the day. Bud leads the way out of the camp as they silently leave the other five men sleeping soundly. Admiral and Sturgis carry the "flag", a fully filled blue igloo cooler.  
  
Under the trees, the second watch wakes the two others.  
  
He speaks: Should we follow them?  
  
Another man: No, the one we want isn't with them. Keep watching. Wake us when they get ready to move.  
  
0930 ZULU  
  
Gunny wakes as the birds begin to chirp their pre-dawn song. He glances at his watch and then turns to speak to Tiner. Realizing that the other team has left the camp, he speaks.  
  
Gunny: Commander Rabb, the Blue Team has flown the coop.  
  
Harm: What, Gunny?  
  
Gunny: They've left. The admiral's team is gone.  
  
Harm: What time is it? It's still dark.  
  
Gunny: It's 0430, sir.  
  
Harm: That means we're sitting ducks out here. (raises his voice) Webb, Sergei, Frank, it's time to get up.  
  
Sergei mumbles something in Russian.  
  
Harm: You're in America, little brother, and the game has begun. Get your tail out of that sleeping bag.  
  
Webb: Who's cooking breakfast?  
  
Harm: Let's eat on the fly, Webb.  
  
Webb: No, the other team is gone. We may as well eat a decent breakfast. They'll have to stop to eat.  
  
Harm: Okay, I guess I'm the chief cook. I brought a pancake mix that you only have to add water to. Stoke up that fire, Gunny. I'll get the skillet.  
  
Harm walks over to the woods and disappears for a few minutes. He returns, grabs a bottle of water and washes his hands. He reaches into his backpack, pulls out a plastic mixing bowl, opens a package of pancake mix and pours it in the bowl. He studies the front of the box, looks at a bottle of water, does a quick mental calculation, and pours two-thirds of the water into the bowl. He mixes it with a spoon. He takes the iron skillet, sprays it with cooking spray (out of his backpack), and sets it on some rocks in the fire. He pours in some batter and watches it closely. Within a short time, he has cooked a large stack of pancakes.  
  
Sergei: Harm, these are the best pancakes I've ever had.  
  
Harm: Food always tastes better outside.  
  
Frank: I don't know when or where you learned to cook, but you are good, Harm.  
  
Harm: Thanks, Frank.  
  
Webb: Okay. Here's the plan. We'll put out this fire and tidy up the camp a little. Then we're going to pack out of here. Who can track?  
  
Gunny: I can. I grew up hunting and fishing in New Mexico.  
  
Harm: The Admiral is pretty sly. You'd better check initially for a diversionary set of tracks.  
  
Gunny: I'll scout around and see what I can find while you guys get ready.  
  
Webb pulls out his cellphone and begins to dial.  
  
Harm: What are you doing, Webb?  
  
Webb: Checking my messages.  
  
Harm: Are you leaving that phone here? We're supposed to leave phones here when we leave.  
  
Webb: Yeah, right, Rabb.  
  
Harm: I can't believe you'd cheat! This is a game among gentlemen.  
  
Webb: If it makes you feel better, I'll leave this phone here.  
  
Harm: Well, I want to win honestly, not with trickery.  
  
Webb: Just like the courtroom, right?  
  
Harm: That's my job.  
  
Within a few minutes, the group has readied itself for departure.  
  
Gunny: Commander, you were right. The Admiral has left three preliminary trails. The problem is that each of them leads off into the woods and will have to be followed. I think we should separate into three groups. Mr. Webb, you take Sergei and the flag. I'll go on alone.  
  
Sergei picks up the red cooler. He and Webb begin taking a trail.  
  
Harm: I'll take Frank.  
  
Gunny: Meet back here in ten minutes.  
  
The group disperses.  
  
Harm and Frank begin walking down one of the paths. Harm puts his facemask on while Frank fiddles with his survival vest.  
  
Harm: What are you doing?  
  
Frank: I'm counting pockets. There's a knife in a hidden pocket that I can't find. What good is the knife if it's hidden so well that I can't find the pocket!  
  
They begin walking up a rise, Frank in the lead, when he hears Harm ask something, and begins to turn. As Frank is turning, whiz, a paintball flies past Harm's ear and splats on Frank's face.  
  
Frank: AHHH! My eye, my eye. I've been hit.  
  
Harm: Move your hand, Frank, let me see.  
  
Frank: It's bleeding, Harm. I see the red.  
  
Harm grabs one of his bandanas and wipes the paint away. The paintball has hit Frank on his cheekbone, just below his left eye. Harm pulls out a water bottle and throws water in Frank's face to wash the paint out of his eye.  
  
Harm: Frank, you got hit just below the eye, but not in your eye. Can you open your eye?  
  
Frank: Oh, it hurts. I can't open it.  
  
Harm: Give yourself a minute. Come under this tree where it's dark. Now try to open it.  
  
Frank opens his eye into a squint.  
  
Harm: Frank, can you see?  
  
Frank: Yes, the eye just feels better closed.  
  
Harm: Do you want me to take you back?  
  
Frank: No, I want to play. Can you bandage the eye for me?  
  
Harm: Let me see if this first-aid kit has anything in it.  
  
Harm pulls out gauze and adhesive tape and rips the tape with his teeth. He bandages Frank's eye.  
  
Harm: Do you want me to go back and get Webb's cellphone and call Mom?  
  
Frank: No, I want to play.  
  
They hear Bud's voice.  
  
Bud: Throw down a flag. I know I hit someone.  
  
Harm motions for Frank to answer.  
  
Frank: Okay, I'll leave one here. You have to give me ten minutes to leave the area.  
  
He and Harm quickly duck down into a thick grove of pine trees. Harm leaves Frank there and runs through the woods breaking sticks and branches on his way. Frank begins to wonder if Harm has left him when, from nowhere, Harm reappears.  
  
Frank: I thought you'd left me.  
  
Harm: No. I created a diversion, then doubled back. I want to see who comes after the flag. Keep perfectly quiet and still.  
  
Soon Bud and Sturgis walk into the clearing where Frank had dropped his bandana.  
  
Bud: It looks like he went that way.  
  
Sturgis: Do you think Frank was alone? Harm wouldn't leave him.  
  
Bud: He may have been. Let's just follow this trail.  
  
Sturgis: I'll stay here and see if they come back.  
  
Bud: That'd be great but I'm a little concerned that I might slip on those rocks as the trail goes down to the creek.  
  
Sturgis: Okay, Bud. Let's go.  
  
Harm and Frank watch the two men as they leave. When they get about twenty- five yards away, Harm motions for Frank to stay put and sneaks out of his hiding place. He circles around the outcropping of rocks. Frank watches as Harm raises himself up on one arm, points and shoots two quick shots, hitting Bud once in the back and Sturgis in the six. Harm quickly points at Frank and disappears.  
  
Frank: I got you both. Drop two flags.  
  
Sturgis: Frank, did you mailorder yourself some instructions for this game or what?  
  
Frank: I'll give you twenty minutes to get out of here.  
  
Frank checks his watch and settles down to wait the prescribed twenty minutes. When the twenty minutes are up, he gets up, walks down the path that Bud and Sturgis had taken and picks up their flags.  
  
He thinks that this game wasn't going to be so bad afterall. His cheek is throbbing, but he'd captured two flags already. He sits down to wait for Harm, figuring that he was detoured on his way back to their hiding place. Finally, one hour after the shots had been fired, Frank figures he ought to look for Harm. He climbs back up to the outcropping of rocks where Harm had hidden to take his shots. He looks in all directions to see which way Harm might have gone. He glances down, noticing that his boot had come untied and bent over to tie it. It was then that he notices the red drops on the rock. He sticks his finger in a drop and realizes that it is sticky. He remembers that the paint from the paintball that had hit him was not sticky like this. He smells the red liquid on his finger, trying to smell a paint smell. He realizes that the droplets weren't paint; they are blood. Harm's blood. He crouches down to see if he can see anything else and he notices two hidden paintballs that have slipped into a crevice between two boulders. Next to them is the bandana that Harm had used to wipe the paint off Frank's face.  
  
Frank's heart begins to pound. His thoughts seem to follow the rhythm of his heartbeat. Harm's gone. Harm's hurt. Call Trish. Harm's hurt. Get help. Help Harm. As he slumps down against a rock to catch his breath and force himself to think, something catches his eye. Frank notices movement in the distant woods, across a ravine. It is a group moving. He thinks, "If it's the Admiral, I can signal him somehow and we can look for Harm." He raises his gun to fire but something stops him. "Wait, wait and watch" he thinks. The situation becomes surreal as he begins to sense that directions are being given to him. He looks around to see if another one of the guys has joined him, but he is alone.  
  
"How many of them are there, Frank?"  
  
Frank whirls around but finds no one.  
  
Frank turns back to face the woods and begins to count, One, two. They are carrying something. Three.  
  
"What are they carrying, Frank?"  
  
Frank speaks audibly, "How do I know? Their cooler?"  
  
"Frank, that's too big to be a cooler. Look again."  
  
Frank: Oh, no, it's not a cooler. It's a body. It's Harm. I have to go. I have to help Harm.  
  
"Frank, keep watching. Look at the men. Do you know them?"  
  
Frank: NO, how would I know them? They took Harm. Oh my goodness. I don't know them and they took Harm. That means they aren't our guys. I have to get help.  
  
"Keep watching."  
  
Frank keeps watching and sees the two men that were carrying Harm lower the load. The three men with Harm sit down to rest. Frank watches for some sign of movement from Harm.  
  
"Check your vest, Frank."  
  
Frank: My vest? What about my vest?  
  
"Field glasses, Frank."  
  
Frank: Oh, oh yes.  
  
Frank reaches into his pocket and pulls out his field glasses. They aren't a great magnification, but they help. He saw that Harm's hands and feet are tied together and he is being carried on a pole of some sort. He thinks that he had seen this before, on National Geographic, he thinks. They didn't carry a man that way, they carried an animal carcass.  
  
Frank's heartbeat begins the bass drum thumping again. Get help. Harm's hurt. Get help. Harm's hurt.  
  
"Check your vest, Frank."  
  
Frank hears the voice again. He reaches into the first pocket he could think of. Matches. No, I don't need matches unless I start a forest fire. He checks an inside pocket and feels a rectangular flat object. He pulls it out. A mirror, he thinks, I ought to check my eye. He looks in the mirror, pulls back the gauze, and sees that his eye is swollen to a slit. He recovers it. He begins to put the mirror back in his vest pocket, when the thought occurs to him.  
  
Harm had told him that they had to stay on the east side of the road. He could see the road snaking through the valley. The men that had Harm were on the west side of the road. He lines himself up facing north. He holds out this right hand. That meant that the rest of the group has to be to his right unless they are right down on the edge of the road. He thinks that of eight guys, only a couple of them could be down along the road, or to his west, but still on the east side of the road. If he can somehow signal with his mirror, someone could come and help. Someone who knows more could help. He begins to stand up and then realizes that he should camouflage himself so that those men can't see him. He looks around and only sees pine branches. He reaches into another pocket, pulls out a knife, and extends the longest serrated blade. He cuts several small branches. In another pocket he finds string and ties the boughs together. He slips off his vest and ties the string to the back of the vest into a metal ring that Frank doesn't have the slightest idea of its purpose. Then he slips the vest back on and fastens it in the front. He knows that he probably looks ridiculous but the overall effect is that he was wearing a cape of pine boughs. With his back to the west, Frank picks up the mirror and tries to catch the morning sunlight. He glances at his watch. Eight o'clock. He begins to signal. He will signal for ten minutes, then stop for five minutes and watch the resting kidnappers across the way. Then he'd begin signaling again.  
  
Meanwhile, the game continues on. Bud and Sturgis have the misfortune to encounter Gunny hiding behind a tree, which causes them to lose their second flags. Bud decides that he ought to just go guard the cooler and let Sturgis run around.  
  
Admiral Chegwidden has used his Seal tactics and has twice shot Sergei. The elusive Clayton Webb has dodged the bullet both times, so the Admiral is determined to find Webb. Webb has hidden the cooler in an outcropping of rocks, marked the location with his GPS, and is off hunting for Alex. Webb is sitting up in a hunter's tree stand, trying to remember everything the agency had taught him about the KGB as if that could help him to get into the mind of the Russian. Alex has found his team's cooler, has chugged some vodka, and is sleeping off his hangover under a grove of pine trees. First, he had covered himself so that he could not be found. Tiner is pursuing Gunny, trying his best to sneak up behind him. Once, Tiner had Gunny in his sights, but Gunny has seemed to disappear. Once again, Tiner thinks he has seen Gunny running down a hill, so he is following him. All of the sudden, splat! Tiner is hit in the back. He hears Gunny laughing.  
  
Gunn: Face it, Tiner, you squids never learn to hide. Drop your flag!  
  
From where Bud sits, he occasionally hears the laughter and the hollering. He wishes he could play as physically as the other guys can and is feeling a little sorry for himself when something flashes in his eyes. Bud squints and about thirty seconds later, he sees the flash again. Something's out there trying to signal someone, Bud thinks. If it's my team, I need to help them. If it's the other team, maybe I can pull a capture. He is standing there thinking about how to proceed when the Admiral shows up.  
  
Admiral: Bud I need some of that vodka in the cooler. I slipped on a rock and cut my knee.  
  
Bud: Admiral: Someone is out there signaling.  
  
Admiral: Signaling what?  
  
Bud: No, it's not Morse code. It's more of a flash of something. Wait a few minutes, see if you see it.  
  
The Admiral pulls out his field glasses and scans the horizon.  
  
Admiral: Bud, I don't see anything.  
  
FLASH!  
  
Bud: Sir -  
  
Admiral: I saw it.  
  
He picks up the field glasses again and pivots slowly in a ninety-degree arc.  
  
Admiral: I still don't see what it is.  
  
FLASH!  
  
Bud: Turn to the north more, sir.  
  
Admiral: It's someone flashing a mirror. I can't make out who the person is. It looks like a mountain man. We're too close to civilization to have an injured hiker, I would think.  
  
I'll go check it out, but if it's one of Webb's tricks I'm going in firing and I'll get him with three shots before he can hit the ground.  
  
Bud: Admiral, take the signal gun, just in case. You might need it.  
  
The Admiral takes off in the direction that the signal was coming from.  
  
MEANWHILE Sturgis is hiding and listening. He begins to think that it is strange that he hasn't caught any glimpses of Harm. Then he hears what he thinks is snoring. He immediately thinks, "Harm!" He's probably sleeping off last night somewhere. He knew the Navy trained its pilots in survival training and that included hiding in the woods. They were trained to sleep by day and move by night. Suddenly he hears the snore again, turns around and looks at a grove of pine trees. He scans the ground, looking for an irregularity. Nothing. Then he looks more closely and sees that one tree has a slightly mounded crown of dirt around it. Sturgis savors the moment. Should he startle the sleeping baby, or just shoot it? Then he sees the boulder. If he can crouch behind the boulder, he could shoot and then watch the surprise. He creeps over to the boulder and lowers himself behind it. He checks his gun, smiles to himself, and fires twice.  
  
The mounded ground disappears as Alex jumps up and begins yelling in Russian. Sturges stands up, puts his hands in the air, and says, "Alex!" I thought you were Rabb!" Sturgis doubles over in laughter. The commotion causes such an uproar that Sergei pops out from behind a tree and shoots both Alex and Sturgis.  
  
Alex: Sturgis, that's your third hit!  
  
Sturgis (laughing hysterically): I know, but seeing your face was worth it! I'm going back to the cooler with Bud. This is too funny.  
  
Alex calls out: Sergei, you worthless helicopter pilot, I'm going to hunt you down!  
  
MEANWHILE, Admiral Chegwidden makes his way to where Frank is signaling.  
  
Admiral: Frank, what are you doing?  
  
Frank: Oh, AJ, am I glad to see you! Wait, they're on the move again.  
  
Admiral: Frank have you been dipping in the whiskey?  
  
Frank quickly tells him the story about how he had been shot in the cheek, and how Harm had gotten Bud and Sturgis.  
  
Frank: The men are over there. They'd been resting but they are moving him again.  
  
Admiral: I have the emergency flare.  
  
Frank: Won't that alert them?  
  
Admiral: Good thinking, Frank. I need to get help though. Hand me that mirror.  
  
The admiral picks up the mirror and begins signaling in the direction where Bud is.  
  
Bud notices the first flash as Sturgis enters the camp.  
  
Sturgis: I'm out of the game, but wait until you hear what I did to Alex.  
  
Bud: Wait, sir. I think we might have a problem.  
  
Sturgis: What's that flash?  
  
Bud: It was signaling me before. The Admiral went to check on it. I think that might be the Admiral signaling now.  
  
Sturgis: Check for code?  
  
Bud: What code?  
  
Sturgis: Morse code.  
  
Bud: Oh.  
  
Bud and Sturgis watch intently. They are watching so intently that they don't see Webb and Gunny enter their camp and sit down on the cooler.  
  
Webb: We win.  
  
Bud: Quiet, Mr. Webb. We're getting a signal from the Admiral.  
  
Webb: Well, signal him back that we won! We probably have time for a second game so we can beat you again.  
  
Sturgis: Knock it off. We're trying to read the Admiral's message.  
  
Gunny: Is there something wrong?  
  
Bud: Oh no! Not again.  
  
Webb: What again? Is it Rabb? Tell me it's not Rabb.  
  
Sturgis: Okay, we need to round everybody up. Game's over.  
  
Webb: Shoot the flare.  
  
Bud: NO! We have to do this quietly.  
  
Webb: What's going on?  
  
Sturgis: The Admiral is with Frank. Harm has been kidnapped by someone and the Admiral and Frank are tracking them. We can't send off flares or make noise for fear of alerting the people who have Harm.  
  
Webb: Whom are we missing?  
  
Bud: Tiner, Sergei, and Alex.  
  
Webb: Do we really need them?  
  
Bud: Mr. Webb, we don't know who these people are. I don't think we should leave anyone behind.  
  
Sturgis: Gunny, go after Tiner and the Russians. Bud, stay here and when Gunny gets back, you five move out and follow us.  
  
Webb: I'm going back to the base camp for my phone.  
  
Bud: Are you calling for help?  
  
Webb: No, I'm looking for a way for us to communicate.  
  
Bud: How are we going to communicate with one cell phone?  
  
Webb: We're not. I'll leave the cell phone from the camp with you.  
  
Bud: So how do we stay in touch?  
  
Webb: You call me on this one. (Webb reaches into his pocket and pulls out another cellphone).  
  
Within ten minutes, Sturgis and Webb begin following the Admiral and Frank as Bud signals the Admiral using the blade from his pocketknife.  
After a half-hour, Sturgis and Webb catch up with Frank and the Admiral.  
  
Webb: Frank, what in the world happened to your face?  
  
Frank: I was shot with a paintball when I didn't have my mask on.  
  
Webb: AJ, what have you got?  
  
Admiral, handing Webb the field glasses: We're following three Middle Eastern looking gentlemen who seem to be carrying an unconscious Rabb.  
  
Webb: Unconscious or (seeing Frank looking at him, he stops mid-sentence). Okay then. Do we have any clues who these guys are? Can you think of any cases the Commander has had that would make someone track him and kidnap him?  
  
Admiral: He's handled all kinds of nuts, but I can't think of anyone off hand.  
  
Webb reaches into his pocket, unflips his cellphone, and speaks: Yes. We're aware of the problem. I am handling it. What do they want? What are their conditions? Okay. I'll get back to you.  
  
Admiral: Why is it that I am fearful that this involves you, Webb?  
  
Webb: The Commander is a hostage. He is not wanted by anyone. These guys have bigger fish to fry.  
  
Admiral: Who's the tuna?  
  
Webb: I am.  
  
At this point, the other five members of the team arrive.  
  
Sergei: What's happened to Harm?  
  
Admiral: Sergei, he appears to be okay. We need to sit down and think this thing through, plan our strategy. Webb, can you call for a helo?  
  
Webb: We'll get Rabb killed if they hear a helo.  
  
Admiral: Good point. Now, what do they want with you?  
  
Webb: That's classified.  
  
Admiral: Well, we all seem to be on a "need to know" basis right now.  
  
Webb: They believe that I was responsible for the death of three of their agents in Syria.  
  
Admiral: Were you?  
  
Webb: Let's say that they had served their purpose.  
  
Alex: And you people thought the KGB were evil?  
  
Admiral: What happens if we arrange an exchange?  
  
Webb: What?  
  
Admiral: You for Rabb.  
  
Webb: The US government does not negotiate with terrorists.  
  
Admiral: We won't actually make the exchange, just make them think we're going to. Arrange a meeting place and we'll come in, surround them, and rescue you both.  
  
Webb picks up the field glasses and watches the men through them.  
  
Webb: Admiral: They are carrying three AK-47's. I am carrying a .9mm pistol. I suggest you think through this again.  
  
Admiral: We can do this without a gun battle, which we'd lose. We know where they are. They don't know where we are. First, we need a diversion. Bud, I'll need you to go back about a mile from here, take several paint ball guns, and go around firing them, so that it sounds as if our game is going on. Sturgis, you need to take Alex, Tiner, and Gunny and get across the road to the west side where they are but you need to be ahead of them. Sergei, you, and Webb, and I are going to circle back and cross the road behind them.  
  
Frank: What about me, AJ?  
  
Admiral: You need to go back with Bud.  
  
Frank: Can't you let me go with you? He's my son. I can't face Trish if anything- Please let me go.  
  
Admiral: Bud, do you think you can handle the diversion?  
  
Bud: No problem, sir.  
  
Admiral: If we're not back by 1400, call for help.  
  
Bud: Whom should I call?  
  
Admiral: Webb's office.  
  
Admiral: Webb, call your office and have them contact these guys to make the swap.  
  
The men move out to their respective assigned positions. The Admiral, Webb, Frank, and Sergei stay on the east side of the road until Webb's office calls him back.  
  
Webb: Yes. Okay. Give me the GPS. One more thing, tell them that the Commander's stepfather will be with me in order to help the Commander get back to safety. Just tell, them, Betsy! Okay. I will. Me too.  
  
Admiral: Me too? What are you doing, Webb? You aren't courting; you're planning a mission. I can't believe it. "I love, you, Clayton." "Me, too."  
  
Webb: That's not what happened. She said, "I hope you pull this off." Then I said, "Me too."  
  
Admiral: Right. What time are we doing this?  
  
Webb: 1500.  
  
Admiral: Call Bud. He'll have the area stormed with FBI by then.  
  
Webb dials the phone: Bud, hold all calls until 1600. We've had a change of plans. No, we can hear your shots. It sounds good. Do a few more yells. That'll be fine. Don't you dare call Mac!  
  
Admiral: Frank, you're going to cross the road in plain view with Webb. Sergei, you and I are crossing the road using that storm sewer pipe that runs under it. Webb, I'll signal Sturgis with the GPS coordinates. Frank, give me the mirror. Webb, give me your gun.  
  
Webb: They'll expect me to be armed.  
  
Frank: Take your paintball gun. Throw that down.  
  
Admiral: Frank, you are thinking clearly under pressure. Do you have secret military background? Webb, I want the real gun from you and any others you might have squirreled away.  
  
Webb hands the Admiral his .9mm pistol. Then he reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a small handgun.  
  
Admiral: These aren't even legal, Webb.  
  
Webb: So make a citizen's arrest.  
  
Frank: Admiral, take this knife. You may need it.  
  
Admiral: What else do you have in those pockets?  
  
Frank: I have some rope and some wire.  
  
Admiral: Did you say wire?  
  
Webb: AJ -  
  
Admiral: If I need it, I'll use it.  
  
Frank: Somewhere there's another knife, but I can't find it. I mean I can't find the pocket that holds it.  
  
Admiral: Frank, when you go in with Webb, you need to keep your head down and your mouth shut, do you understand? Webb, give us fifteen minutes to get across then you cross the road in plain sight. Let's go.  
  
Admiral Chegwidden and Sergei crawl through a storm drain that crosses under the county highway. They are seen for a brief moment and then disappear into the woods. Frank strains to see where they have gone.  
  
Frank: I can't see them. Can you see them, Clayton?  
  
Webb: Frank, the Admiral is an ex-Seal. Covert is his middle name.  
  
Frank (mumbling): I thought it was Jethro.  
  
Webb: We'll wait ten more minutes. When we cross the road, I want you to keep your eyes straight ahead. If you're looking into the woods, you might tip them off that the Admiral and Sergei are coming. Do you understand, Frank?  
  
Frank: Look, I know I don't have the training or the experience that the rest of you have. You have to know that I would NEVER risk Harm's life.  
  
Webb: I know you would never do it intentionally, but it's the unintentional that concerns me.  
MEANWHILE, Sturgis and his gang cross the road ahead of the moving terrorists. They split into a forward group of Sturgis and Alex, and a rear group of Gunny and Tiner. Sturgis' rationale was that if they were captured, Gunny and Tiner could get help or ambush them as they moved ahead. Sturgis has just spotted the terrorists holding Harm. Through the field glasses, he can see that Harm is alive and awake, resting on his hands and knees and heaving. Without speaking, he motions to Alex to look through the glasses. Alex looks and hands the binoculars back to Sturgis. Alex points at his head indicating the possibility that Harm has a head wound, probably a concussion. Sturgis nods.  
  
Sturgis begins to scan the road for Webb and Frank. He sees them begin to cross the road and walk at a cautious pace toward them.  
  
A shout from the terrorist camp rings out. Sturgis watches Webb stop dead in his tracks. Sturgis realizes that the terrorist is speaking in another language. He looks at Alex. Alex mouths "Arabic". Another voice calls out: "Mr. Webb, throw down your weapon."  
  
Webb throws his paintball gun down on the road. Frank does the same.  
  
"Mr. Webb, throw down your pistol as well."  
  
Webb: I don't have it. It was against the rules of the game.  
  
"Mr. Webb, keep walking down this road until you are told to stop. Your friend can stay with you until he's no longer needed."  
  
Webb hears the sound of Rabb throwing up.  
  
Webb: Is your hostage okay?  
  
"Mr. Webb, you let us worry about the hostage."  
  
Sturgis and Alex watch as the terrorists grab Harm and begin to move toward them. They see an almost imperceptible movement in the trees behind them. Sturgis looks at Alex, who winks at him. They slowly move apart to wait to ambush the group.  
  
Admiral Chegwidden has a three-foot length of wire in his hands. Sergei looks at him as he realizes what the Admiral is about to do. The Admiral motions to Sergei to move into the trees away from him and to await his signal. Sergei moves as directed. The Admiral waits for Sergei to get behind a large white pine when he signals. Sergei then jumps on a branch, snapping it, and sending a crackling noise to pierce the silence.  
  
The lead terrorist holds his finger to his lips. He motions the rear terrorist to take his gun and see who is following them. The terrorist begins to walk toward Sergei, out of sight of Rabb and his captors. The lead terrorist calls out to Webb:  
  
"Mr. Webb, stop right where you are. I have the scope of an AK-47 trained on your head. If someone is following us, one of my men is going to blow our hostage's head off and then I'm going to blow yours off."  
  
Webb: I don't know what you're talking about.  
  
The Syrian creeps slowly toward Sergei's hiding spot. He opens his mouth in recognition to call for help when, from behind, the Admiral snaps his neck with the wire. Sergei quickly drags the body under the tree, picks up the man's weapon, and begins following the Admiral.  
  
When the guard does not return, the lead terrorist motions to the other guard.  
  
"Mr. Webb, your friend must leave you now."  
  
Webb: But he's the hostage's father. The hostage will need help finding his way back.  
  
"Mr. Webb, you will do as I say, or you and your friend will both die in the next thirty seconds."  
  
Webb: Go, Frank, and keep going.  
  
Frank: But, I-  
  
Webb: Go!  
  
Frank begins to walk away from Webb. He crosses back over the road to the east side and disappears.  
  
The remaining guard walks down to the road and grabs Webb. He holds a gun to Webb's head and forces him to walk up the hill and into the woods. They come to the place where the lead terrorist is holding Rabb.  
  
Webb: Harm, are you okay?  
  
Lead Terrorist: We're moving. You don't speak.  
  
The terrorists force each Harm and Webb to walk in front of them, each with a weapon planted squarely in a hostage's back. The movement is slow because Harm is having a difficult time remaining upright. Webb keeps catching Harm when he becomes unsteady. The Admiral and Sergei follow at a safe distance. Sturgis and Alex, realizing that there's no way to free either hostage safely, begin to drop back in order to find a better place to ambush. The group of four moves along toward a stream. Suddenly, a man carrying a Swiss army knife flies out from behind a rock rushing at them. Harm and Webb each dive in opposite directions. The terrorists fire on the man, one wounding him in the shoulder and the other in the groin. Admiral Chegwidden dives on the lead terrorist, knocking his gun out of his hands. Alex rushes the other gunmen, rolling him down the hill toward the road. Sergei grabs one gun, and Sturgis grabs the other. Gunny and Tiner sprint to the scene to find Frank wounded and bleeding heavily. Harm staggers to get up and passes out. Sturgis runs to Harm and sits next to him, trying to rouse him.  
  
Gunny begins to apply first aid to Frank. Tiner grabs the bandanas each one is still carrying from the paintball game and tries to stop Frank's bleeding.  
  
Webb asks for a cell phone, calls Bud and orders a medivac helicopter for Frank and for Harm.  
  
The Admiral takes the length of rope that Frank had given him, places each terrorist on the ground and hog-ties them, binding their hands and feet together behind their backs.  
  
Webb: There's still one more.  
  
Sergei: No there's not.  
  
Webb: I am sure I saw three.  
  
Admiral: You did. He won't bother anyone.  
  
Webb: You mean you  
  
Admiral: I subdued the enemy, Mr. Webb. Now let's look after our casualties.  
  
Frank (in obvious pain): Harm, where's Harm?  
  
Admiral: Frank, Harm's okay. You need to hang on. We're trying to get you to a hospital.  
  
Frank: It hurts, and I'm so tired.  
  
Admiral: Hang on, Frank. Trish needs you. Frank, can you hear me?  
  
The whopping noise from the descending helicopters cuts off Frank's reply. The helicopter lands on the road below. Webb and Admiral Chegwidden carry Frank to the stretcher and load him on the helicopter. The paramedics immediately begin working on Frank. Sergei and Sturgis wrap Rabb's head wound and await the stretcher and paramedics to move him.  
  
Webb walks with Harm's stretcher to the helicopter, leans down, and whispers something to an unconscious Harm.  
  
The helicopter lifts off, leaving seven men staring into the sky after it.  
  
From Bud's position, he watches the helicopter fly toward the southeast and thinks: Not again. He looks at his watch, realizes that the ladies are just about to leave the spa, and dreads the call he know must make.  
  
End of Chapter 5 


	6. Chapter 6 Mission Gift Giving

Chapter 6  
  
Mission: Give a Gift  
  
As he watches the helicopter carrying an unconscious Harm and a bleeding Frank toward a trauma center, Bud Roberts looks down at his cell phone, dreading the call he must make. Suddenly the cell phone chirps at him, he presses a button and says, "Roberts."  
  
Admiral: Bud, we need to contact Col. MacKenzie.  
  
Bud: I was just ready to do that, sir.  
  
Admiral: This is a horrible thing to do to her two days before her wedding. Do you know where they are?  
  
Bud: All the ladies went to La Poshe Spa today, sir. They should be just about finished now.  
  
Admiral: Do you think you could call Harriet instead of Mac? She's going to need to get Mac and Trish to the hospital. We can meet them there.  
  
Bud: What did the paramedics say, sir?  
  
Admiral: It doesn't look good for Frank. He's lost so much blood. Harm will probably be okay but I don't know if he'll be ready for Saturday. Even if he is, I don't know if he'll want to go Saturday if something happens to Frank.  
  
Bud: Sir, just when we thought things were finally going their way.  
  
Admiral: You don't have to tell me that. I'm sorry I ever thought of this dumb game. I hate the thought of facing Mac.  
  
Bud: Admiral, sir, we had a great time last night. How could you know that Mr. Webb had ticked off some terrorist group?  
  
Admiral: Well, hindsight is always 20/20. Listen Bud, Webb and I have to hang back here and answer the Sheriff's questions. I may even have to be charged until we can sort things out. I'm keeping Sturgis here as my lawyer. I'll send the other four back to you. You need to get to the hospital and call Harriet to get Mac and Trish to the hospital. One other thing, Bud, Meredith does not need to know at this point that I may be facing charges.  
  
Bud: Admiral, what exactly did you do?  
  
Admiral: I neutralized one of the hostages.  
  
Bud: With Webb's Saturday Night Special?  
  
Admiral: NO.  
  
Bud: With his .9 mm? I didn't hear a shot.  
  
Admiral: No, Bud, with a wire.  
  
Bud: Oh, wow, Admiral. You will need to explain.  
  
Admiral: Call your wife, Lt. She can take command.  
  
Bud hits the off button. He punches it again and hits a speed dial number for Harriet.  
  
Harriet: Hello?  
  
Bud: Hi , sweetie.  
  
Harriet: Hi, Bud. Are you finished already? It's only five-thirty. I have been pampered today. I'm so relaxed , I could even be happy to see my mother.  
  
Bud: I'm glad you had a good day. Listen, I need you to pull things together for me and take charge of an emergency.  
  
Harriet (using clipped words): What?  
  
Bud: Harm and Frank have been injured. They are being medievacked into the D.C. trauma center now. You need to take Trish and Mac and get over there. I don't want you to panic, but I'm going to let you know how bad things are. Frank's been shot twice and was losing a lot of blood when they lifted him.  
  
Harriet (choosing her words carefully): And the other one?  
  
Bud: Head injury, we don't know how serious.  
  
Harriet: Again?  
  
Bud: I know. Listen, the Admiral doesn't want Meredith to know that he's got to answer some questions from the Sheriff.  
  
Harriet: Why?  
  
Bud: He killed one of the terrorists who was holding Harm.  
  
Harriet: In the middle of rural Virginia? How? (realizes that she has piqued the curiosity of Mac). Okay, sweetie, you can just fill me in later. I'll do what you've asked. I love you.  
  
Harriet clicks off her cell phone.  
  
Mac: What's going on, Harriet?  
  
Harriet: Okay, ladies, we've had a slight change of plans. Meredith, do you think you could take Grandma Rabb and Chloe to the Admiral's house and wait for the men? They've had a little change of plans. I need to take Mac and Trish to another place first, then we'll be over. Oh, Meredith, stop by my house and let my mother know that we'll be late. I'll tell her all about it later.  
  
Sarah Rabb: I think I'll stay with Mac, Harriet. She may need me.  
  
Mac: Harriet -  
  
Harriet: Not now, Mac.  
  
Meredith: Is AJ okay?  
  
Harriet: He's going to call you at his house. Please, Meredith, I need to get these ladies somewhere. Please just trust me.  
  
Meredith: C'mon Chloe. I'll order you whatever kind of pizza you want.  
  
Chloe: Mac?  
  
Mac: Chloe, go with Meredith. The dogs will need to be taken for a walk. You're good with them.  
  
Chloe: Call me?  
  
Mac: I will, sweetie. Just go.  
  
Meredith and Chloe leave.  
  
Harriet: Where're Bobbi and Jennifer?  
  
Mac: Bobbi had a dinner at the State Department so she left when you were on the phone with Bud. She's dropping Jennifer off at her place. What's going on?  
  
Harriet: Ladies, get in the car, and I'll tell you on the way.  
  
Mac: Harm's hurt, isn't he?  
  
Harriet doesn't answer.  
2300 ZULU  
  
Emergency Room Bethesda Naval Hospital Bethesda, Maryland  
  
Harriet, Trish, Sarah, and Mac walk up the reception desk.  
  
Harriet: Petty Officer, I'm Lt. Harriet Sims, attached to JAG Corps. We've had some confusion, but I understand that a helicopter brought two trauma patients in here, a Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. and his stepfather, Frank Burnett. Is that correct?  
  
P.O. Smith: Yes Ma'am. The chopper tried to land at a D.C. trauma center but there was an accident on the Beltway and they had their hands full. Since there was a Naval Officer, they sent them here.  
  
Harriet: This is Commander Rabb's mother , his grandmother, and his fiancee. His mother is also Mr. Burnett's wife. Can we see them?  
  
P.O. Smith: I'll check, but I believe the civilian was taken up to surgery. He was hit with two nasty gunshot wounds, lost a significant amount of blood. The Commander has a concussion. I'm not sure he's awake yet. Let me check with a doctor and get back to you.  
  
Lt. Commander Darryl Munsen walks out into the waiting room of the emergency room.  
  
Munsen: Is there a Lt. Sims here?  
  
Harriet: I am she, sir.  
  
Munsen: I was looking for the uniform.  
  
Harriet glances down at her maternity sweat suit.  
  
Harriet: I took a personal leave day today, sir.  
  
Mac: I'm Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie. I am Commander Rabb's fiancee. How is he?  
  
Munsen: I hope that wedding isn't any time soon, Colonel.  
  
Mac: It's Saturday, why?  
  
Munsen: Oh, well, um, I mean I'm sorry. I shouldn't have.  
  
Mac: What's wrong with the Commander?  
  
Munsen: He's got a concussion, ma'am. He has been awake once, talking gibberish, then he went unconscious again. We're trying to wake him up again.  
  
Mac: What was the gibberish?  
  
Munsen: He was calling to his stepfather, we knew the guy's name was Frank. Then he was calling for another guy, saying not to leave him. They didn't bring another guy in here. We don't know what happened to the other guy.  
  
Mac: What was the guy's name?  
  
Munsen: Mac.  
  
The four women smiled.  
  
Mac: That's my name.  
  
Trish: Dr. Munsen, my husband, Frank Burnett, was taken to surgery. Do you know his condition?  
  
Munsen: He's in bad shape, ma'am. He was shot in the shoulder and in the upper thigh, near his groin. The shoulder may give him problems in healing and mobility, but it's the groin wound that's life threatening. They are trying to get the artery that the bullet hit patched up. He's been given four units of blood already. Those paramedics worked hard. He coded once in the chopper, but they brought him back. The injury below his eye should be the least of our worries.  
  
Trish: I, I didn't know that he was that bad.  
  
Munsen: I'll call up to the OR and see what I can find out. Col. MacKenzie, we're waiting for the radiologist to read the scans of Cmdr. Rabb's head now. This was a precautionary measure since he received a nasty blow to the back of his head. Also, it was reported to us by the paramedics that while he was being held as a hostage, when he did regain consciousness, he was either unable to stand or vomiting.  
  
Mac: Hostage? Harriet?  
  
Harriet: I don't know much, Mac. We need to wait for the guys to get here.  
  
Mac: How does a simple game of paintball turn into a hostage situation with Harm disoriented with a nasty bump on the head and Frank shot and bleeding?  
  
Gunny: Col. MacKenzie, maybe I can explain.  
  
Mac: Gunny! What's going on? How could this happen?  
  
Gunny: Well, we were just playing the game. Bud shot Frank in the eye.  
  
Trish: What?  
  
Gunny: Well, not in the eye, just below it. It was technically Frank's fault because he was supposed to have been wearing his facemask. Then Harm shot Bud and Sturgis. Frank couldn't find Harm. He waited for an hour, and then went looking for him. He found Harm's hiding place with blood in it. He didn't panic, he got out his field glasses and spotted Harm being carried away by three terrorists. Then Frank signaled with a mirror and got Bud's attention. Bud was guarding the flag. When the Admiral got hurt -  
  
Mac: The Admiral was hurt?  
  
Gunny: No, he just got a scratch and went to clean it up. He saw the flashing mirror and went to Frank. They signaled back, but by that time, Webb and I had captured their flag. So then Webb got a phone call from his office and they told Webb that Harm was a hostage. So then we split up. Bud staged a diversion by shooting off paintballs to make it seem as if the game were still going on. Sturgis, Alex, Tiner, and I crossed the road and set an ambush. Webb and Frank were out in the open supposedly to make the hostage swap. The Admiral and Sergei started tailing the terrorists with Harm. After the Admiral killed one of the guards,  
  
Trish: Killed?  
  
Gunny: Yep. He came up behind him with a wire, and it was "Time to meet Allah".  
  
Trish: Oh my!  
  
Gunny: So, anyway, after the Admiral did that, the head terrorist guy told Frank he'd have to leave. So Frank left. We thought he went back to the camp or to help Bud or something. Then another guard came down and took Webb. They were using Harm and Webb as shields, keeping them walking ahead of them at gunpoint. We weren't sure how we were going to get them then. The Admiral had a couple of weapons and Sturgis had Webb's pistol, but there was no way to get a clean shot without them hitting Harm or Webb or both.  
  
Suddenly, this Rambo type character wielding a pocketknife pops up from behind a boulder and charges the terrorists. They each got off one round, but by that time, the Admiral, Sergei, Sturgis, and Alex had taken out the terrorists. Then we realized that "Rambo" was Frank, and he was bleeding. Tiner and I started first aid to try to stop the bleeding, but he was bad. Harm tried to get up to come to Frank, but he passed out from the head wound.  
  
Col, ma'am, that's basically what happened.  
  
Sarah Rabb: So Frank is really the hero of the hour.  
  
Gunny: We probably would have rescued the guys sooner or later, but Frank make it happen sooner. He was so brave, Mrs. Burnett. Even before we started the rescue, he was thinking clearly and told the Admiral that if we shot off the emergency flares, it might alert the terrorists that we had seen them. You should be very proud of him, ma'am. There for a minute, I thought he was a Marine.  
  
Mac: That's high praise coming from you, Gunny.  
  
Munsen: Col. MacKenzie, Commander Rabb is awake now. If you promise not to ask him too many questions, I'll let you see him.  
  
Mac leaves the waiting room as Bud, Tiner, Alex, and Sergei arrive. Harriet embraces Bud.  
  
Bud: Sorry it took us so long. We had to clean up the camp and hike back out. What's happening here?  
  
Harriet: Frank's in surgery. Harm's awake and they're letting Mac go back to see him.  
  
Bud: What's the prognosis?  
  
Harriet: We're waiting to hear on Frank. The doctor laughed at Mac when she told him that the wedding is Saturday.  
  
Bud: Is he brain damaged?  
  
Harriet: I don't think so, at least, not more than he was before. I guess he keeps calling for Mac.  
  
Bud: That's what we told him last night.  
  
Harriet: What?  
  
Bud: Every time the guy gets hit on the head, he sees Mac.  
  
Mac walks into the trauma room. Harm is lying on his back with his head bandaged and foam pads arranged around his head to keep the pressure off the back of his head. His eyes are closed. Mac slips her hand into his and kisses him gently on the lips.  
  
Harm: Mmmm. I don't know who you are, but you can do that all day.  
  
Mac: Harm!  
  
Harm: If this is the nursing care this hospital gives, I'll bet you win awards.  
  
Mac: Harm, it's me, Mac.  
  
Harm: It can't be. Mac doesn't smell as good as you do.  
  
Mac: Harm, I've been at the spa all day. I've had every inch of me massaged, exfoliated, salt-scrubbed, and oiled. That's why I smell like I do.  
  
Harm (opening one eye): Every inch?  
  
Mac: Harm?  
  
Harm: Do you think you could show me, Saturday, that is?  
  
Mac: I knew you knew me!  
  
Harm: Don't make me laugh; it hurts too much.  
  
Mac: Where does it hurt?  
  
Harm: My head. My arms hurt too. They were tied behind me. My face hurts too. I think I fell on it a few times.  
  
Mac: You're alive and that's what matters to me.  
  
Harm: Sarah?  
  
Mac: Yes?  
  
Harm: I think I've ruined the wedding pictures.  
  
Mac: Why?  
  
Harm: They shaved the back of my head to stitch it. Twenty stitches.  
  
Mac: Maybe we'll take you to a Marine barber and he can just give you the jarhead look.  
  
Harm: Mac?  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Harm: I may be hurt and my brains may be a little scrambled, but not enough to let you turn me into a Marine.  
  
Mac: Okay, flyboy.  
  
Harm: Where's Frank? Did somebody look at his eye?  
  
Mac: Harm, Frank's up in surgery.  
  
Harm: I didn't think his cheek was that bad. It hit just below his eye.  
  
Mac: No, Harm, Frank has gunshot wounds.  
  
Harm: How?  
  
Mac: He was trying to rescue you and Webb.  
  
Harm: Webb. That guy is going to get me killed some day.  
  
Mac: I'm going to talk to him about this Iraq deal. Maybe he can give us some extra days before we have to leave. You're not in any condition to get married Saturday. We'll just have to postpone the wedding.  
  
Harm: NO.  
  
Mac: What do you mean? You can't even stand yet.  
  
Harm: NO. Do not postpone the wedding. Promise me, Sarah.  
  
Mac: If the doctor won't release you from the hospital, then-  
  
Harm: He will or I'll escape, but I am marrying you on Saturday. I will not wait any longer.  
  
Mac: Harm, Frank's critical. He may not make it.  
  
Harm: Because of me?  
  
Mac: Because he was brave. He was brave because he loves you.  
  
Harm: If something happens to Frank, we'll cancel the ceremony, but we'll get married anyway. Chaplain Turner can just marry us without the fanfare. My mother will understand. Sarah?  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Harm: Don't leave me tonight. Stay here with me all night. We have a breakfast date the morning at the farm.  
  
Mac: What are the chances that we can go there?  
  
Harm: Let me talk to the doctor. Is Grandma here?  
  
Mac: She insisted on coming.  
  
Harm: I need to see her, privately.  
  
Mac: I'll go get her.  
  
Harm: Check on Frank's condition too, will you?  
  
Mac: I will.  
  
Grandma Rabb walks back to Harm's bed.  
  
Harm: Hi Grandma.  
  
Sarah: Harm, you look terrible.  
  
Harm: You smell nice. How was the spa?  
  
Sarah: Well, some of the things I could have done without, but the massages felt good on my old bones. We had a lunch of rabbit food that you would have liked. I like the other ladies that went. Now, why did you ask to see me?  
  
Harm: Grandma, a man is delivering something to the farm tonight. Can you be there when it's delivered? Ask Bud to have someone drive you out there. It's one of Mac's wedding gifts. I want it to be there in the morning.  
  
Sarah: What is it?  
  
Harm: You'll see when you get there. You'll know what to do with it, though. Nobody else will. Can you do that for me?  
  
Sarah: I can do that.  
  
Harm: How's my mom?  
  
Sarah: She's pretty shaky. Don't worry. I'll be there for her. She's made of tough stuff; we'll get through this.  
  
Harm: I think Frank saved my life, Grandma.  
  
Sarah: I think he did.  
  
Harm: Can you believe that?  
  
Sarah: I can. He's a good man, Harm. He's loved you for a very long time. I think you've loved him too. Now maybe you can let your defenses down and show him that you love him.  
  
Harm: I have been a jerk, haven't I?  
  
Sarah: Well, about a month ago, you came to your senses about being a jerk to your Sarah. Now, a month later, you're starting to realize it about Frank. If you go through one revelation a month for the next, oh, ten years, you may end up being a decent human being.  
  
Harm: Grandma, I love you.  
  
Sarah: Just get better fast. You ought to see the dress your mother bought me for the wedding. I'd hate for the first time I got to wear it to be for my funeral.  
  
Harm: Grandma, don't mention funerals.  
  
Sarah: I'm going to see if I can persuade some handsome sailor to give me a ride out to the farm. I'll see you tomorrow.  
  
Harm: Bye Grandma. Send Mac back, please.  
  
Mac walks back to Harm's bedside.  
  
Harm: Hello. Have I told you today how much I love you?  
  
Mac: Not yet.  
  
Harm: Well, I do. I guess I'm just getting tired of you always seeing me in hospital beds.  
  
Mac: But you're so cute in those gowns that don't cover your six.  
  
Harm: How's Frank?  
  
Mac: In recovery. He'll be in the ICU. Your mom is going up to be with him now. He's survived surgery, but he's not out of the woods yet. She said to give you this. (Mac leans down and kisses Harm)  
  
Harm: Somehow it's better coming from your lips.  
  
Mac: Where's your grandmother going?  
  
Harm: To take care of something for me.  
  
Mac: What could be so important that she needs to leave the hospital?  
  
Harm: A present for you.  
  
Mac: Harm, that's very sweet.  
  
Harm: She'll be back tonight. She'll stay at the hotel. Can you make arrangements for her to get there?  
  
Mac: I've put in a call to Jennifer. She'll be here to do whatever needs to be done. I'm sending Harriet and Bud home. Harriet's had a big day and needs to go home to AJ.  
  
Harm: Speaking of AJ, where' s the Admiral? I haven't seen him since last night.  
  
Mac: He and Webb are talking with the Loudin County sheriff's office.  
  
Harm: Why?  
  
Mac: The admiral killed someone.  
  
Harm: What?  
  
Mac: He killed one of the terrorists.  
  
Harm: I hope it was the one who hit me on the head.  
  
Mac: It's not funny.  
  
Harm: So, they were carrying weapons. If the Admiral got one away from them and shot someone, that's the way it goes.  
  
Mac: He didn't shoot anyone.  
  
Harm: Knife?  
  
Mac: Wire.  
  
Harm: Wow. There's some SEAL training. Yikes!  
  
Mac: Let's just say that I doubt that suburban Virginia sheriffs have seen many cases like this one.  
  
Harm: Does he have a lawyer with him?  
  
Mac: Sturgis is with him. So's Webb.  
  
Harm: Webb. Webb needed to talk to me. I wonder what he wanted.  
  
Mac: You're not going to worry about it. My orders. Now, is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable?  
  
Harm: Get that doctor in here and let me tell him that I'm going home tomorrow morning.  
27 MARCH 2003  
  
1200 ZULU Rabb Farm  
  
Loudin County, Virginia  
  
Mac's Corvette drives slowly into the lane. Mac gets out, walks around and helps Harm out of the car.  
  
Harm: Mac, I love 'Vettes, but I hurt too much to sit down so low. We need to take my truck when we leave.  
  
Mac: Let me help you over to the porch. You can sit on the porch swing.  
  
Harm: Hey, where'd we get that?  
  
Mac: From our co-workers at JAG. It was from the Mac and Harm pool money. It's made of teak. I guess Tiner and Coates came out here and hung it last night.  
  
Harm: I wonder if they tried it out.  
  
Mac: Harm!  
  
Harm: No, I mean if they sat on it. I don't want the porch roof trusses to be rotten and for me to sit in it only to fall. I don't need another head injury. What did you think I meant?  
  
Mac: I think they like each other.  
  
Harm: Good. I hope he's not stupid enough to wait seven years.  
  
Mac: Jacob worked seven years to marry Rachel.  
  
Harm: Who are Jacob and Rachel?  
  
Mac: From the Bible. You remember, Jacob worked for seven years for Rachel's father. Then the father double crossed him and gave him her sister Leah instead.  
  
Harm: For a minute, I thought it was somebody who was coming to the wedding.  
  
Mac: Speaking of wedding guests, we received the strangest wedding gift and couldn't figure out who had sent it.  
  
Harm: What was it?  
  
Mac: It was a chandelier made out of elk antlers.  
  
Harm: Really? Who sent it?  
  
Mac: The card was signed Lynne and Dick.  
  
Harm: Are they your relatives or mine?  
  
Mac: Neither. While we were at the spa, we all tried to figure out who it was. Finally, at the end of the day, Chloe figured it out.  
  
Harm: Who was it?  
  
Mac: The Vice President and Mrs. Cheney  
  
Harm: Who invited them?  
  
Mac: We had to invite them. The wedding's at the Naval Observatory. That's where they live.  
  
Harm: It's not as if we're using their living room.  
  
Mac: No, but the funny thing is how Chloe figured it out.  
  
Harm: How?  
  
Mac: The note with the gift said, "We get these from Jackson. Sorry we can't be there; we'll be in U.L. for the week-end."  
  
Harm: U.L.?  
  
Mac: Undisclosed Location!  
  
Harm smiles.  
  
Harm: It's good that Frank's doing so much better, isn't it?  
  
Mac: He's had to have had six units of blood.  
  
Harm: If it's been military blood, he'll become smarter.  
  
Mac: You were going to try, remember?  
  
Harm: Mac, go into the bedroom and look in the top drawer of the nightstand. There's a square box in there with your name on it.  
  
Mac: Really?  
  
Harm: Go, and stop acting like a five-year old on Christmas.  
  
Mac: I love surprises.  
  
Mac walks out carrying a box wrapped in the same ivory paper with a gold bow that her engagement ring had been in.  
  
Harm: Open it.  
  
Mac: Can I guess first?  
  
Harm: No. I bought this on my first sea duty tour when we docked in Japan. I followed all the married guys into port. They bought these for their wives, so I bought too. I told myself that someday, I 'd give them to my wife.  
  
Mac opens the box and pulls out a strand of pearls.  
  
Mac: Harm, they're beautiful.  
  
Harm: You buy them unstrung, saves on duty. I had Joe the Jeweler string them for me.  
  
Mac: I was going to borrow Harriet's.  
  
Harm: I know.  
  
Mac: Thank you. I will always cherish them.  
  
Harm: I have another present.  
  
Mac: What? I only got you one.  
  
Harm: So you go first.  
  
Mac: Okay.  
  
Mac goes to her car, opens the trunk, and pulls out a cylinder about three feet long. It's wrapped with a red ribbon.  
  
Mac: This is for you. I wasn't sure what to give you, but I wanted it to be something that would last for a long time and would give you great pleasure.  
  
Harm: I can't imagine what it is. Did you get me a print of something?  
  
Mac: Not exactly.  
  
Harm begins to unwrap the gift. He pulls the lid off the cardboard cylinder and removes a set of drawings.  
  
Harm: This is a set of architect's drawings. This is our house. Oh my goodness, this next sheet is a plan for an addition, for a KITCHEN.  
  
Mac: I want you to be happy here.  
  
Harm: I'll be happy anywhere that you are, but I'll be happier in a kitchen like this one! When can we afford to start?  
  
Mac: That's part of the gift. I've hired the contractor. He starts Monday.  
  
Harm: Mac, can we afford?  
  
Mac: It finishes the rest of my savings, but you'll have your kitchen complete with the Viking range and the sub-zero refrigerator.  
  
Harm: You know the way to my heart.  
  
Mac: And you know the way to mine.  
  
Harm: Well, I think I do. I think we'll have to go for a little walk though, to see if I know you completely.  
  
Mac: You can't walk.  
  
Harm: I can if you help me.  
  
Mac: Okay, sailor, where are we going?  
  
Harm: To the barn.  
  
Mac: Why?  
  
Harm: You'll see.  
  
Mac and Harm walk slowly toward the barn. Harm steadies himself by leaning on the fence while Mac opens the barn door. As they walk in and their eyes adjust to the darkness of the barn, Mac hears a low whinny.  
  
Mac: Harm, you didn't buy me a  
  
Harm: Yes I did.  
  
Mac: A horse? My very own horse! I have loved horses since I was a little girl. I thought that maybe in a few years, we could, but this is too wonderful.  
  
Harm: She's a registered Quarter Horse, Mac.  
  
Mac: Come here baby and let me get a look at you. Harm, she's perfect. What's her name?  
  
Harm chuckles: That's the best part.  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Harm: First I have to tell you that she was already named.  
  
Mac: What's her name and why is it so funny?  
  
Harm: Well, first I want you to understand that she's seven years old. The same number of years that we've known each other.  
  
Mac: Okay. What's her name?  
  
Harm: Ninja Girl.  
  
Mac: You did this?  
  
Harm: No I didn't. It's her name. I have the papers to prove it. Mac, there's one more thing.  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Harm: She's in foal.  
  
Mac: Is there a subliminal message in here somewhere?  
  
Harm: We'll see.  
  
Mac: You have given me perfect gifts, Harm.  
  
Harm: I plan to keep doing it for the rest of my life.  
  
End of Chapter Six  
  
Author's Note: I haven't decided whether to finish this in one chapter or two. I try to keep it to a certain number of pages but I have two major events to cover and two minor events. My characters can never seem to stop talking, can they? I wonder if it has anything to do with the author?  
  
Thanks for your notes. This has been my first attempt at fanfiction, and I've been encouraged to keep writing. By the way, after last night's episode of JAG, when Mac accompanies Webb to Paraguay, I just wanted to clarify that when I started writing this, I had no idea that the actual writers would hook Mac up with Webb on a dangerous mission outside the country. At least on my mission, she'll have Harm, or maybe not. 


	7. Chapter 7 Mission 3,2,1

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters are the property of Bellisarius Productions, Donald P. Bellisario, CBS, and Paramount.  
  
"The Long and Winding Road" is the property of John Lennon and Paul MacCartney.  
Chapter 7 Mission 3,2,1  
  
2400 ZULU  
  
Admiral Chegwidden's Home McLean, VA  
  
The scene is the Rehearsal Dinner. The rehearsal has taken place with Petty Officer Coates substituting for Mac. Mac and Harm don't need anything that even resembles bad luck. Gathered at the Admiral's house are Trish, Sarah, Mac, Harm, Sergei, Alex, Bud, Harriet, Tiner, Gunny, Jennifer Coates, Meredith, Sturgis, Clayton Webb, Bobbi Lathom, Francesca (Admiral Chegwidden's daughter), AJ Roberts, Sergei's fiancee Galena, Chaplain Turner, Chloe, Webb's date Elizabeth Perkins, and Gunny's date Gloria.  
  
Admiral: I would like to clear up any questions you might have about yesterday. I was informed late this afternoon that I have been cleared of any pending charges. The justice department has verified that the terrorists that took Commander Rabb hostage were linked to a Syrian terrorist group. They had only been in this country for two days and had entered by traveling with the diplomatic corps. The Syrian government is in negotiations with our State Department about future visitors and what clearance precautions must be taken. We also have a good report that Frank is much improved, but still unable to make it to this evening's festivities.  
  
In Frank's absence, Trish has asked me to act as host this evening. I'd like to break tradition by proposing the first toast of the evening to someone other than the bride and groom. To Frank Burnett, may we each possess the fortitude to act with such bravery outside of our comfort zones.  
  
Group: Hear, hear.  
  
Admiral: My second toast is to Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, soon to be Rabb. Many years ago, a visitor to JAG said that we were all just a little bit in love with her, and so we were. My wish is that she will receive all the love she deserves, even from a Naval Aviator.  
  
Group: Oooh Rah.  
  
Admiral: Okay, third toast. To Commander Harmon Rabb, the man has excelled in the air, before the bar, and now in the choice of a wife. May you never crash and burn.  
  
Group: Go Navy!  
  
Admiral: The buffet is set up in the dining room. Chaplain Turner will ask the blessing. After that, please help yourselves to the food. Chaplain?  
  
Chaplain Turner: Dear Lord, we thank you for this occasion, for your hand of protection in delivering this couple here, and for the vows that will be taken tomorrow. Bless the marriage that you have brought together. Give Harm and Sarah a long and fruitful union. May we, as witnesses, always endeavor to strengthen the bonds of this union.  
  
Bless this food to our bodies, and us to Your service.  
  
In Jesus' name. Amen.  
  
The group moves into the dining room.  
  
Alex walks up to Francesca and introduces himself.  
  
Alex: Hello. I am Alex.  
  
Francesca: Hello Alex. I don't think we've ever met. I'm Francesca, Admiral Chegwidden's daughter.  
  
Alex: You are not American.  
  
Francesca: Yes I am an American, but I am also an Italian.  
  
Alex: Italy is the home of the world's most beautiful women. You are no exception.  
  
Francesca: And where is your home?  
  
Alex: I am Russian.  
  
Francesca: How do you know Harm?  
  
Alex: He is my friend. He came to Russia to help us reform our military justice code. I am also an attorney, but I am an Army officer, not a Naval officer.  
  
Francesca: Do you come to America often?  
  
Alex: Whenever I can find a reason. Do you?  
  
Francesca: I live in New York and travel to Europe to cover fashion shows. I am a journalist.  
  
Alex: Will you be at the wedding tomorrow?  
  
Francesca: Of course.  
  
Alex: Will you save me a dance?  
  
Francesca: What did you have in mind?  
  
Alex: I have every dance in mind, but I'll settle for a waltz.  
  
Francesca: Is it true that all Russian officers must take dancing lessons?  
  
Alex: Dance with me and you'll find out.  
  
Francesca: Consider it a deal.  
  
Harm: It looks like Alex has discovered Francesca.  
  
Mac: I never thought of them as a couple, but it works, doesn't it?  
  
Harm: Oh, sure, and meeting the girl's father would be so pleasant!  
  
Mac: You know, sometimes I hope we only have girls.  
  
Harm: What? Why?  
  
Mac: I want to watch you sweat all the nights that they are out with boys just like Harmon Rabb.  
  
Harm: My girls can't date aviators.  
  
Mac: Why, I did.  
  
Harm: Most of them don't have the self-control that I have.  
  
Mac: Oh right!  
Sarah Rabb walks over to Trish.  
  
Sarah: Trish, I want you to stay with Harm tonight at his apartment.  
  
Trish: Well, I know that was the plan but I need to be with Frank.  
  
Sarah: I'll stay with Frank at the hospital.  
  
Trish: Sarah, I couldn't ask you to do that.  
  
Sarah: You didn't ask. I volunteered. I want to do it. I want you to have tonight with Harm.  
  
Trish: Thank you, Sarah. That's one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.  
  
Sarah: Go tell your son.  
  
Webb: Admiral, I'd like you to meet Elizabeth Perkins. She works in my office.  
  
Admiral: Elizabeth, a beautiful name. Are you always called Elizabeth?  
  
Elizabeth: Well, sometimes people call me Betsy.  
  
Admiral (smiling): Really? Does Clayton ever call you that?  
  
Elizabeth: Well, sometimes, but not usually at the office.  
  
Webb: Admiral, don't go down this road.  
  
Admiral: So would you say that Betsy is his pet name for you?  
  
Elizabeth: Well, I guess, yes.  
  
Admiral: Gotcha Webb. Remember two little words from yesterday "Me too"?  
  
Elizabeth blushes.  
  
Webb: I told you that she wished me luck on the mission. Really, Admiral, it was a simple thing. Elizabeth, I want you to meet Harm and Mac and forget this grouch!  
  
Admiral: Elizabeth, I'll look forward to seeing more of you, now that I know just how important you are to Webb.  
  
Harm: If I could have everyone's attention, I'd like to do something that I'll never have the nerve to do tomorrow in front of more people. Sarah, if you'll sit here, on this arm of this chair. Bud, hand me my guitar, please.  
  
Harm sits down in the wing chair. Mac sits on the arm.  
  
Harm: This is for you.  
  
The long and winding road that leads to your door Will never disappear I've seen that road before. It always leads me here. Leads me to your door.  
  
The wild and windy night that the rain washed away Has left a pool of tears Crying for the day Why leave me standing here Let me know the way  
  
Many times, I've been alone Many times, I've cried Anyway, you'll never know The many times I've tried  
  
And still they lead me back to the long and winding road You left me standing here A long, long time ago Don't leave me waiting here Lead me to your door.  
  
Many times, I've been alone And many times I've tried Anyway, you'll never know The many times I've tried  
  
But still they lead me back to the long and winding road You left me standing here A long, long time ago Don't keep me waiting here Lead me to your door.  
Harm: Sarah, I'm sorry the road has been long and winding, but I'm not sorry that it has always led me to your door.  
  
Mac: Thank you, Harm.  
  
The group cheers.  
  
Mac: I'm sorry to be a party pooper, but I have a big day tomorrow. Harriet, whenever you and Bud are ready, Chloe and I will be too.  
  
Chloe: Harm, are you saving a dance for me tomorrow?  
  
Harm: You bet. Anything you want.  
  
Chloe: Anything?  
  
Harm: Mac, make sure that she's reasonable. I'm not doing some mosh pit thing.  
  
Chloe: Never a mosh pit, Harm!  
  
Admiral: Harriet, do you promise that this will be a good band?  
  
Harriet: This is going to be the best wedding band you've ever heard, Sir.  
  
Mac: Comfortable shoes, everyone. We're going to dance the night away!  
  
Harm and Mac walk out on the porch together.  
  
Harm: This brings back some memories, doesn't it?  
  
Mac: You told me that you loved me, not directly so that I could understand it, but you wanted to say it, didn't you?  
  
Harm: I had to learn the hard way to be direct. How's this? I love you. I think I started in that Rose Garden. I knew it in Russia, the first time. I have blown it so many times with you that I will forever be grateful that you gave me so many chances. The next time I see you, you will be just a few minutes away from becoming my wife.  
  
Mac: Are you nervous?  
  
Harm: Nothing has ever felt so right.  
  
Mac: Okay. So stay out of planes. Stay away from Webb. Please, I just want this to happen!  
  
Harm: This is the last time I have to say good night without holding you the whole night.  
  
Mac: I'm sure there will be times when we're separated overnight.  
  
Harm: Not if I have anything to say about it.  
  
Mac: Good Night, Harm.  
  
Harm: Good Night, Sarah.  
  
They kiss and Mac skips down the steps and into the van with Bud, Harriet, AJ, and Chloe. Harm watches them drive away.  
  
Webb: Harm, I need to talk to you.  
  
Harm: Mac just told me to stay away from you.  
  
Webb: Why would she say that?  
  
Harm: She thinks you'll get me killed before the wedding.  
  
Webb: Look, that was a freak thing that happened. You know these middle Easterners bounce people in and out of their embassies faster than we can check them out. They all travel on diplomatic passports. Those guys weren't even in our registry. I know Mac's nervous. We're putting a detail outside your hotel room tomorrow.  
  
Harm: No, you're not. Keep your people away. Keep your bugs out. This is our honeymoon. Tomorrow night is sacred, Webb.  
  
Webb: I wouldn't bug your room, Harm. What kind of person do you think I am?  
  
Harm: Stay away from us and keep your operatives away too.  
  
Webb: Look, I couldn't get your date to leave changed. I did arrange for you to have a week in Scotland before going to Iraq though. British intelligence owed us one, so we're collecting. You'll be in a castle on the Scottish coast, very secure, very remote. There aren't any restaurants, so you'll have to cook.  
  
Harm: That sounds nice. You must feel guilty for yesterday.  
  
Webb: I do. I'm going to feel even guiltier for what I'm about to ask you.  
  
Harm: Oh no.  
  
Webb: Harm, this mission didn't start out to be real. You weren't really supposed to fall in love with her, you know.  
  
Harm: Well, I thank you for the kick in the six that got me started.  
  
Webb: What I mean is, things could get sticky if Mac should become  
  
Harm: Pregnant?  
  
Webb: Well, yes.  
  
Harm: No promises, Webb. We want a family.  
  
Webb: But couldn't you postpone?  
  
Harm: That's Mac's decision. I'll talk to her. If she says no, it's no.  
  
Webb: That's fair enough.  
  
Harm: Hey, Clay?  
  
Webb: Yes.  
  
Harm: Who is the girl? She's gorgeous.  
  
Webb: I know. She also speaks five languages fluently and holds a black belt in karate.  
  
Harm: So what are your plans?  
  
Webb: It's complicated. I work with her.  
  
Harm: You've watched me and haven't learned a thing?  
  
Webb: She's young, only 27, and she's very ambitious with her career. I want her to be happy.  
  
Harm: So ask her what she wants.  
  
Webb: You think?  
  
Harm: Go for it, Webb, tomorrow.  
  
Trish walks out of the house.  
  
Trish: Harm, I'm ready. Can we stop by the hotel and get my things?  
  
Harm: Absolutely. Does Grandma need a ride?  
  
Trish: She already packed her bag. Sergei and Galena are taking her to the hospital. I am growing fond of Sergei, Harm. Galena's a doll. Your grandmother is very smitten with both of them.  
  
Harm: It's a good feeling, isn't it, Mom? I feel like life's pieces are falling together for me.  
  
Trish: I'm glad for you. Mac's the perfect mate for you.  
  
Harm and Trish leave together.  
  
Sergei, Galena, Alex, and Sarah Rabb leave behind them.  
  
Sturgis offers to drive Bobbi Lathom home after he takes his father to the hotel. She accepts.  
  
Jennifer and Tiner leave the house together.  
  
Tiner: Jen, why don't I follow you home, just to make sure you're safe?  
  
Jen: I'm sure I'll be okay, Jason.  
  
Tiner: Please?  
  
Jen: Okay. See you later, Victor. Bye Gloria.  
  
Gunny and Gloria leave in Gunny's truck.  
  
Inside the house, AJ and Meredith sit on the couch and stare into the fire.  
  
AJ: I'd like for us to get married, Meredith.  
  
Meredith: Really? I thought you were a confirmed bachelor.  
  
AJ: Do you think I'm too old for you?  
  
Meredith: No.  
  
AJ: I thought you wanted children.  
  
Meredith: Is there an age limit on fatherhood?  
  
AJ: No, but I don't want to be in a nursing home when the kid graduates from high school.  
  
Meredith: I guess we ought to get busy then.  
  
AJ: Really?  
  
Meredith: Really.  
  
AJ: Then will you wear this? He pulls a ring box out of his pocket.  
  
Meredith: So you weren't just hypothesizing?  
  
AJ: I never hypothesize. I stick with the facts, darlin'  
  
Meredith: Really?  
  
AJ: You can take it to the bank.  
  
AJ slides off the couch, gets on one knee.  
  
AJ: Meredith, you would make me the happiest man alive if you would consent to be my wife.  
  
Meredith: Oh yes!  
  
FLASH!  
  
Francesca snaps a picture of her father on one knee with a ring box in his hand.  
  
Francesca: Oh, Papa. You did it. Meredith: I'm so happy.  
  
AJ: Thank you, Francesca.  
0300 ZULU  
  
Bethesda Naval Hospital Bethesda, Maryland  
  
Sarah Rabb enters Frank's hospital room  
  
Sarah: Hello, Frank. How are you feeling?  
  
Frank: Mrs. Rabb, I didn't expect to see you here.  
  
Sarah: Well, you're stuck with me for the night.  
  
Frank: Where's Trish?  
  
Sarah: I insisted that she spend the night with Harm. The last night before your son marries is a special time.  
  
Frank: You're right. I'm glad you insisted. You don't have to stay here though.  
  
Sarah: Well, I'm not calling those crazy Russians for another ride. Besides, you and I have some things that need to be said.  
  
Frank: I'm all ears, Mrs. Rabb.  
  
Sarah: First of all, I want you to stop calling me "Mrs. Rabb". You can call me Sarah or Grandma, although I'd prefer Sarah. I'm certainly not old enough to be your grandmother.  
  
Frank: Consider it done, Sarah.  
  
Sarah: Secondly, I want to thank you for all that you've done for Harm. You've been a good stepfather, Frank. My own son couldn't have done any better by Harmon. I want you to stop feeling like you're second string. God took my son. God brought you into Harm's life. Who are we to question God?  
  
Frank: Thank you, Sarah.  
  
Sarah: Thirdly, I want you to have a copy of my will.  
  
Frank: What?  
  
Sarah: Now, I'm an old woman. I may be old but I'm not stupid. I had my attorney draw up two different wills for me and I brought both of them with me. Now that I've met Sergei, I've chosen the will I want to use. I'm destroying the other one. I'll give you the copy of the will I want used. As soon as I get home, I'll call my attorney and tell him which one to destroy. However, if for some reason I don't get home, you'll have to tell him.  
  
Frank: I don't know what you mean.  
  
Sarah: I like Sergei. I'm convinced he's Harm's son. As such, he's my heir as well as Harm. So, the gist of it is that I'm leaving my farm to Sergei. Harm has his own farm now. The money that I have will be split equally between the boys. I brought all of the sentimental items that I thought Harm would want with me. That includes letters that his dad wrote to me, furniture, and things that belonged to my husband. Sergei will need a little money to get started, if he wants to keep the farm. Anyway, I want Sergei to be able to live in America if he wants. I want your promise that you'll see to it that my wishes are carried out.  
  
Frank: Well, I'm sure that won't happen for a long time.  
  
Sarah: We have no guarantees in this life, Frank. After yesterday's events, you should realize that.  
  
Frank: I'm thankful to be alive, Sarah.  
  
Sarah: Have you asked the doctor about the wedding tomorrow?  
  
Frank: Trish won't let me.  
  
Sarah: Frank, I'll be here in the morning when the doctor makes his rounds. Why don't you leave it to me?  
  
Frank: I think this is the beginning of a very interesting friendship, Sarah.  
28 MARCH 2003 1100 ZULU  
  
Harm's Apartment North of Union Station  
  
Harm lifts his head off the pillow on the couch. Trish is in the kitchen starting coffee.  
  
Harm: Morning, Mom.  
  
Trish: Hello, darling. Did I wake you by making too much noise?  
  
Harm: No, I think I'm starting to develop Mac's internal clock thing.  
  
Trish: How's your head feel?  
  
Harm: Actually, not too bad. (pulls the bandage back) How's it look?  
  
Trish: It doesn't look too bad. The shaved section in the middle of the back of your head isn't real attractive, but other than that.  
  
Harm: I know. I think I may have a way to fix that. I'll have to wait until at least eight to make the call though.  
  
Trish: Is this something I want to know? Remember that this day will be chronicled in photographs for many years.  
  
Harm: Don't remind me!  
  
Trish: Are any of your academy friends coming, Harm?  
  
Harm: Keeter will be here. Sturgis is already here. Luke's dead.  
  
Trish: And Annie?  
  
Harm: I don't think so, Mom.  
  
Trish: Speaking of former girlfriends-  
  
Harm: Let's see, Kate, no, Jordan, no, Renee, no, but she did send a gift.  
  
Trish: Really, what?  
  
Harm: She sent a picture of Mac and me, taken when Mac was with Mic, and I was dating Renee. She sent it in a Waterford frame. The funny thing is that the picture is almost three years old and I'm looking at Mac like a lovestruck schoolboy.  
  
Trish: From what I hear, you had that look on your face more than once.  
  
Harm: Well, I guess I can have it honestly now.  
  
Trish: Shall I start the pancakes?  
  
Harm: Did you bring strawberries?  
  
Trish: Do I know what my boy likes?  
  
Harm: Thanks, Mom. You've been such a wonderful mother.  
  
Trish: It was easy to be a good mom when I had such a great son.  
  
Harm: Even when I'm difficult?  
  
Trish: You had to get a few of your father's traits.  
  
Harm: Was he difficult?  
  
Trish: He was a man of few words, Harm. For you to be a lawyer and make your living with words is quite out of character for a Rabb man.  
  
Harm: Sometimes I hope that Mac and I have only girls.  
  
Trish: Really, why?  
  
Harm: I don't know. Maybe so I'm not tempted to have a Harmon Rabb, III.  
  
Trish: I don't think you will, honey. If you do, he'll evolve. Look at you.  
  
Harm: Mom, I'm almost forty. I met the woman I love when I was thirty-two. It took me over seven years to get my act together. I could have kids, several kids, by now. Mac's thirty-five! It's killing me that I've wasted so many years. I would hope that a son of mine could recognize a good thing faster than seven years.  
  
Trish: Harm, maybe the key is for his father to be around to show him the way.  
  
Harm: Maybe it is, Mom.  
  
Trish: Are you getting nervous, Harm?  
  
Harm: About the wedding?  
  
Trish: Well, yes, about the wedding.  
  
Harm: Not the ceremony. I want this desperately. I'm a little nervous about the honeymoon.  
  
Trish: I didn't think we'd have to have THAT talk.  
  
Harm: Mom, I understand the biology. I just want it to be, well, good.  
  
Trish: Competing against Brumby's memory, Harm?  
  
Harm: Well.  
  
Trish: How would you feel if you heard Mac expressing the same apprehensions and comparing herself to Renee?  
  
Harm: Mom, there's no comparison. One was, well, physical with some fondness. Mac is, well, I love her.  
  
Trish: Do you really think that doesn't make a difference?  
  
Harm: Turn around so I can't see your face when I ask you this.  
  
Trish: What?  
  
Harm: You're my mother. I can't see your face when you answer this.  
  
Trish (turns around): Ask your question, Harmie.  
  
Harm: Does love make a difference?  
  
Trish: Night and day, Harm.  
  
Harm: Really?  
  
Trish: So does commitment. There's no regret , no guilt, no awkward moments.  
  
Harm: Mom?  
  
Trish: Yes?  
  
Harm: You can turn around now.  
  
Trish: Good, let's eat.  
  
1200 ZULU  
  
Roberts' Home Arlington, VA  
  
Mac is sleeping with Chloe when the door opens and AJ sneaks into the room. He gets within about three inches of Mac's face. His breath on her cheek wakes her.  
  
Mac (smiling): Hey, buddy. What are you doing?  
  
AJ: Hi Aunt Mac. Today is our big day.  
  
Mac: Really? What happens today?  
  
AJ: You get to marry Uncle Harm. I get to carry the pillow with the rings. Then we go to the big party and we both get to dance! My dad says that the food at the party will be great. All our friends will be there, Uncle AJ, Sturgis, Uncle Tiner, and Gunny. I get to stay up late tonight too.  
  
Mac: Where are your parents?  
  
AJ: They are still in bed, snuggling.  
  
Mac: Really?  
  
AJ: I think they like to talk when they are snuggling. They kiss too; I've seen them!  
  
Mac: So do you think you and I should go make breakfast for everybody?  
  
AJ: Well, what will we make?  
  
Mac: What would you like?  
  
AJ: I like scrambled eggs and sausage. If you cut them for me, I can put the bagels in the toaster.  
  
Mac: I can do that. Let's go before we wake Chloe.  
Bethesda Naval Hospital  
  
Lt. Commander George Skinner walks into Frank's room.  
  
Skinner: Mr. Burnett, how are you feeling?  
  
Frank: I feel stronger all the time.  
  
Skinner: Your wounds seem to be healing nicely. You'll have to start therapy on that shoulder next week.  
  
Frank: When can I go home?  
  
Skinner: Possibly Monday.  
  
Frank: My stepson is getting married today. Could I possibly attend?  
  
Skinner: I think that's out of the question. You're still weak from the surgery and from the blood loss. You can't walk without assistance.  
  
Sarah: What about if he went in a wheelchair?  
  
Skinner: Well, that would eliminate the need for him to be walking around.  
  
Sarah: What if I told you that he'd be gone for five hours or less?  
  
Skinner: Well -  
  
Sarah: If he just sits in a wheelchair and watches the wedding, goes to the reception and eats some decent food, what's the harm?  
  
Skinner: What time?  
  
Sarah: He'll need to leave at 1:30. I'll have him back by seven.  
  
Skinner: What happened to the five hours or less.  
  
Sarah: I'm winning the argument so I'm pushing for more concessions.  
  
Skinner: What does Mrs. Burnett think?  
  
Frank: Well, she doesn't know. Please, doctor, I want to be with my wife at the wedding of our only child.  
  
Skinner: Oh, I'm a sucker for a wedding story. Okay. I'll write the order.  
  
Sarah: With decisiveness like that, you'll be a Commander soon, Doctor.  
  
Skinner: Know any admirals with pull?  
  
Sarah: Well, the SecNav will be at the wedding.  
  
Skinner: Put in a good word for me.  
1500 ZULU  
  
Roberts' House  
  
Harriet answers the ringing doorbell.  
  
Harriet: Jennifer, you're here! Isn't this exciting!  
  
Coates: I'm supposed to help with nails and make-up.  
  
Harriet: Oh, all the ladies are coming here. We're going to have such fun! Bud, it's time for you and AJ to LEAVE. The ladies are arriving.  
  
Bud begins to descend the stairs, carrying a garment bag.  
  
Harriet: Do you have your uniform?  
  
Bud: Yes.  
  
Harriet: AJ's tux?  
  
Bud: Yes.  
  
Harriet: Shoes?  
  
Bud: Both pairs, AJ's and mine.  
  
Harriet: Saber?  
  
Bud: In the car. Are you sure I can't stay and help you get dressed?  
  
Harriet: Bud!  
  
Bud: Where's our suitcase for tonight?  
  
Harriet: It's in the laundry room. Can you get it?  
  
Bud: Are you sure you want AJ to come back here and stay with your parents?  
  
Harriet: Bud, they want us to have a night away. That's why they are staying here instead of at the hotel. Let's just be gracious and say thank you to them.  
  
Bud: So does that mean I get to help you undress?  
  
Harriet (whispers in his ear, then): Isn't the Commander waiting for you?  
  
Bud: I'll see you in a few hours. Don't let the Colonel get cold feet. AJ, let's go buddy. We're off for some male bonding.  
  
Harm's Apartment  
  
Sergei and Alex have arrived. Trish finishes packing her overnight bag.  
  
Trish: It's time for me to take my leave. I want to go over to the hospital and check on Frank. Then I'm going to meet the ladies at Harriet's house. The limos are picking us up there.  
  
Harm: Limos?  
  
Trish: You didn't expect Mac to drive herself in a gown did you?  
  
Harm: Well, somebody could have picked her up or something  
  
Trish: It's such a small thing, I offered to hire a couple limos.  
  
Harm, kisses his mother: I'll see you at the chapel.  
  
As Trish opens the door to leave, Bud and AJ walk in. Sturgis comes down the hall carrying a TV.  
  
Trish: I don't think I want to know.  
  
Sturgis: Mrs. Burnett, we're men. We're Navy men. We can be ready in fifteen minutes, spit and polish. What are we going to do for three and a half hours before it's time to leave?  
  
Trish: So what are you going to do?  
  
Sturgis: There will be something on one of the sports' channels.  
  
Trish: Good-bye, boys. And I do mean boys.  
  
Harm: Sturgis, did you call Gunny?  
  
Sturgis: Yes.  
  
Harm: When is he going to get here?  
  
Sturgis: He'll be here any minute. Are you sure you want to do this, Harm? Mac may hate it.  
  
Harm: That little Marine will be drooling over it.  
  
Bud: What are you doing?  
  
Harm: I'm getting a hair cut.  
  
Bud: What do you mean? You always go to the Navy barber.  
  
Harm: Bud, look at the back of my head. Do you see something that resembles a bald spot roughly the size of a tangerine?  
  
Bud: Well, yes, but those staples are really helping things heal, sir.  
  
Harm: Well, I'm going to attempt to blend that bald spot in with a change in hairstyle.  
  
Bud: Are you going for the Admiral Chegwidden look?  
  
Sturgis begins to laugh.  
  
Harm: No, I thought I'd get a modified Marine cut.  
  
Bud: You're going for the Jarhead look, sir?  
  
Harm: Modified, Bud, modified.  
  
Bud: Sir, I think you might want to reconsider and go for the Admiral look.  
  
There's a knock at the door.  
  
Sergei opens the door to Gunny, Tiner, and Admiral Chegwidden.  
  
Harm: Gunny, is that barber coming?  
  
Gunny: Well, sir, I got his clippers, but he can't come.  
  
Harm: So who's going to cut my hair?  
  
Gunny: Sir, I can do it.  
  
Admiral: What are you doing, Commander?  
  
Harm: Sir, I don't want a big bald spot in the pictures. Gunny was supposed to bring a Marine barber over to shave the back of my head so that I don't have a bald spot surrounded by hair. Now the barber can't come so Gunny thinks he can do it.  
  
Admiral: Gunny, have you cut hair before?  
  
Gunny: No, sir.  
  
Admiral: Give me the clippers.  
  
Harm: Uh, sir, I know that you're a man of many talents, but have you cut hair before, sir?  
  
Admiral: I cut mine every morning.  
  
Bud and Sturgis can't stop laughing.  
  
Harm: Well, uh, sir, no offense, but I'd like you to leave a little more of mine than you do of yours.  
  
AJ: Uncle AJ, is Uncle Harm's head going to be shiny like yours?  
  
By this time, the men are scattering around the apartment because they are laughing so hard.  
  
Admiral: You are all so lucky that this is after hours. Go ahead, have your laugh at my expense. Are you ready, Commander?  
  
Harm: What's the worst that can happen?  
  
Bud: You could look the Admiral!  
  
Admiral: You may be next, Roberts.  
  
The Admiral expertly clips Harm's hair with the clippers. He leaves the top and front unchanged but tapers the back to blend the shaved section where Harm's stitches and staples are.  
  
Alex: Admiral, sir, you did a fine job. Harm, it looks good.  
  
Harm: Gunny, how's it look?  
  
Gunny: Semper Fi, Commander.  
  
Harm: Sergei?  
  
Sergei: You may want to consider adopting this look permanently, Harm.  
  
Admiral: Captain?  
  
Alex: Yes, sir?  
  
Admiral: Did I notice a flirtation between you and my daughter last night?  
  
Alex: Well, sir, I found your daughter to be very interesting, quite intelligent.  
  
Admiral: You didn't think she was pretty?  
  
Alex: Yes, I did, but her mind was so intriguing that it overshadowed her beauty.  
  
Admiral: You Russians can really sling the manure. Just mind your manners. I'm still the Papa.  
  
Alex: I plan to be on my best diplomatic behavior around Francesca tonight.  
  
Harm: What are you negotiating, Alex?  
  
Admiral: Commander! Francesca is not some babe.  
  
Sergei: She sure isn't. She's a major babe, right Alex?  
  
Admiral: Now that I've determined that you adolescents are remaining true to your IQ's, I'm going to leave. I have to pick up my, well pickup Meredith.  
  
Harm: Your what?  
  
Sturgis: Yes, Admiral, what is Meredith to you these days?  
  
Sergei: Is she your major babe, sir?  
  
Admiral: Well, you may as well be among the first to know that Meredith and I became engaged last night.  
  
Sturgis: Ready guys? BOM! BOM! BOM! ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST!  
  
The group begins dancing around the room singing, "Another one bites the dust."  
  
Bud: Admiral, Commander, welcome to my world. You know, guys, statistics have proven repeatedly that married men have more sex than single men do.  
  
Harm and Admiral: REALLY?  
  
Bud smiles.  
  
Admiral: Well, put her there, buddy. (Shakes Harm's hand).  
  
The bachelors stand looking at each other.  
  
Sturgis: Who does these surveys anyway?  
  
Harm: Admiral, can I ask you for a favor?  
  
Admiral: Sure, what do you need?  
  
Harm: Can you stop by Bud and Harriet's and make sure Mac's okay?  
  
Admiral: Why wouldn't she be okay?  
  
Harm: I just don't want her to get cold feet.  
  
Admiral: What about you? Are you getting cold feet?  
  
Harm: After what Bud just said, no way!  
  
Admiral: I have to drop Meredith off there anyway. I'll check on her.  
1730 ZULU  
  
Roberts' Home  
  
Bell rings.  
  
Jennifer opens the door to Meredith and the Admiral.  
  
Admiral: Hello, Petty Officer. Are the women decent?  
  
Coates: They are all in robes, sir. That's decent.  
  
Harriet, Mac, Chloe, and Trish all appear in hot rollers and robes.  
  
Mac: Admiral! Is everything okay?  
  
Admiral: Everything is just fine. Your fiancé wanted me to check on you.  
  
Mac: Why?  
  
Admiral: He wanted me to check the temperature of your feet.  
  
Mac: Why, are his cold?  
  
Admiral: Actually, when I left him, they were quite warm thanks to Lt. Roberts.  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Meredith: I'll fill you in when AJ leaves. He told me the story on the way over.  
  
Admiral: Mac, is everything okay?  
  
Trish: AJ, I'll make sure she doesn't leave my baby boy waiting at the altar. Go get yourself ready. You need to be there in an hour. Shoo! The photographer will be here in a half-hour for the pictures of the bride.  
  
Admiral kisses Meredith lightly on the lips: See you later. (leaves)  
  
Harriet: Meredith, tell us the story.  
  
Meredith realizes that she can't tell them the story without revealing that she and the Admiral are engaged.  
  
Meredith: I'll tell you what. Let's all get dressed and if we have time before the limos get here, I'll tell you the story.  
  
The women all head upstairs.  
  
Chloe wears a sapphire blue satin sleeveless dress with a tank bodice. Harriet's dress has the same neckline but has an empire waist with an inverted pleat to camouflage her belly. Trish wears a sage green chiffon dress with matching pumps. Meredith wears a coral colored strapless gown with a chiffon beaded bolero jacket. Jennifer wears a pale pink strapless taffeta dress.  
  
Harriet begins to help Mac get dressed. Mac's gown is ivory silk with a fitted bodice and a v-back with tiny covered buttons fastening the back. Mac pulls it on over a strapless bra that fastens at the waist. She's wearing silk tap pants and hose. The women all move in to help with all the buttons on the back of the dress and on the ¾ length sleeves. The skirt of the dress is full but free of sequins or beads.  
  
Meredith: Francesca would say that your gown is classic elegance. You are a stunning bride, Mac.  
  
Trish: My words exactly.  
  
Mac: Can someone help me with this veil?  
  
Mac wears a small pillbox hat with a fingertip veil.  
  
Mac: Okay, how's my make-up?  
  
Harriet: I think your lipstick should be a little brighter. You don't want to look washed out.  
  
Mac: Good point.  
  
Trish: Okay. Now for our check off:  
  
Something old?  
  
Mac: The sapphire slide on my pearls.  
  
Trish: Something new?  
  
Mac: My pearls  
  
Trish: Something borrowed?  
  
Mac: Harriet, your pearl bracelet.  
  
Harriet: Let me get it.  
  
Trish: Something blue?  
  
Mac: Sapphire slide is doing double duty.  
  
Meredith: And a tuppence for luck in your shoe. (hands Mac a tuppence from England)  
  
Mac: In my shoe? Will it hurt?  
  
Meredith: Of course not. Take it out after the ceremony.  
  
Mac: Earrings! What am I going to wear for earrings?  
  
Trish: Get my jewelry case. I'm not sure if I brought my pearl earrings.  
  
Meredith: Here Mac, wear mine.  
  
Meredith reaches up to her ear to take out her earrings and Harriet begins to smile.  
  
Harriet: Meredith?  
  
Meredith: Yes, Harriet?  
  
Harriet: Have you received any new jewelry lately?  
  
Meredith smiles: Why do you ask, dear?  
  
Mac: Oh my goodness! Meredith, are you? Did the Admiral? AAAAHHHHH!  
  
Chloe: Nobody better ever say that my friends and I are immature. You women are too much.  
  
Harriet: Oh, I'm so happy! Is this why you didn't tell us the story earlier?  
  
Meredith: Oh, yes. Chloe, cover your ears, child.  
  
Mac: Like she doesn't know more than I do!  
  
Meredith: I guess AJ told the men this morning. Sturgis began leading the singing of "Another One Bites the Dust." Then Bud welcomed Harm and AJ to his married men club and told them that he'd had to put up with this nonsense for years. Then he quoted a statistic that married men have more sex than bachelors do and that shut them all up.  
  
Coates: Do they really?  
  
Meredith: Let's ask our married women. Harriet? Trish?  
  
Trish and Harriet just smile.  
  
Meredith: Well?  
  
Harriet: Find out for yourselves.  
  
Mac: Meredith, when's the wedding?  
  
Meredith: I don't know. I was thinking about June. I always wanted to be a June bride.  
  
Harriet: The photographer's here and here comes the florist with the flowers. Ladies, it's show time!  
  
Mac: Where are my shoes? I bought nice comfortable shoes for this day.  
  
Meredith: Put the tuppence in! You need all the luck you can get.  
  
Harriet: Meredith!  
  
Meredith: She's been shot at more times than any woman I know!  
1930 ZULU  
  
Naval Observatory Chapel Washington, DC  
  
Brides' Room  
  
Harriet, Chloe, and Mac stare out the window watching the last few guests arrive.  
  
Chloe: Mac, isn't that the spy guy?  
  
Mac: Webb?  
  
Chloe: Yeah. Whoa, who's the babe?  
  
Mac: Harriet, who is that? Was that the girl at the rehearsal dinner last night?  
  
Harriet: It sure is. My, that dress certainly shows off her figure to every advantage!  
  
Mac: Remind me, Harm doesn't dance with her at the reception.  
  
Harriet: Why not?  
  
Mac: With his height? He'll stare right down that neckline!  
  
Harriet: Mac, he only has eyes for you.  
  
Mac: He may be marrying me, but he's not dead!  
  
There's a knock at the door.  
  
Admiral: Are we ready?  
  
Harriet: Chloe and I will be right out.  
  
Harriet: Mac, I love you. I hope you have a long, happy marriage with Harm.  
  
Chloe: My dream is finally coming true.  
  
Mac: It's my dream too.  
  
Harriet and Chloe leave.  
  
Admiral embraces Mac.  
  
Admiral: It's not too late to back out, Mac.  
  
Mac: Do you want me to?  
  
Admiral: No, but I'm afraid I'll kill him if he doesn't make you happy.  
  
Mac: He's come a long way, even in the last month.  
  
Admiral: I've noticed.  
  
Mac: Admiral, it's time.  
  
Admiral: Let's not keep a Marine with perfect timing waiting.  
  
End of Chapter 7  
  
Author's Notes: Chapter 8 is finished, but I have to research a couple of items before posting it. What I really need is a beta reader, I think, preferably a die-hard JAG junkie. So check for Chapter 8 on Saturday night or Sunday. 


	8. Chapter 8 Blast Off

Disclaimer: You know the drill. See previous chapters.  
  
The songs quoted are the property of others. I had a difficult time identifying who wrote the songs as most information I found related to who sang them. In the case of Vince Gill, the two might be the same, but I'm not sure of the others. Suffice it to say, I don't write songs or even poetry.  
  
I sacrificed some detail in the wedding scene. My chapters are just too long. I'm sure that nobody is as fascinated as I am with the minutia of a wedding ceremony.  
  
Col. Farrow is a fascinating character to me. Watch "People v. Mac" to see some sizzle there. If TPTB really never want Harm and Mac together, bring back that man for our Marine. By the way, I NEVER saw Mac act with the tenderness or passion that she used with either Farrow or Chris when she was with Brumby. Disagree? Point me to an episode. I'll entertain other perspectives.  
Chapter 8  
  
BLAST OFF  
  
1930 ZULU  
  
Naval Observatory Washington, DC  
  
In the chapel  
  
Sergei escorts Sarah Rabb, wearing a lilac chiffon gown, down to the front of the church and seats her.  
  
Sergei returns and escorts Trish down the aisle to seat her. Alex follows pushing Frank in a wheelchair. Trish waits in the aisle while Alex scoops Frank into his arms and seats him next to Sarah. He then takes the wheelchair back down the center aisle while Sergei seats Trish on the aisle. Francesca sits smiling at Alex as he walks back down the aisle and he winks at her. Meredith catches the wink and looks over at her.  
  
Francesca: I'm saving him a dance.  
  
Meredith: Is that all?  
  
Francesca: I hope not.  
  
Alex and Sergei slide into the second pew from the outside aisle.  
  
The organist begins to belt out "Trumpet Voluntary" by Clarke on the pipe organ. Joining in is a brass section from the Marine Corp Band.  
  
Chaplain Turner leads the procession of men from the side door. He's followed by Harm and Sturgis, both in dress white uniforms. Bud and Jack Keeter stand at attention at the outside aisles along the front pews. Bud is on the groom's side, so that he has a perfect view of Harriet; Jack is on the bride's side with a perfect view of Harm.  
  
Harm stands at the right front of the church, meets his mother's gaze, smiles at Frank, and winks at Sarah. Harm glances up at the balcony as the trumpeter perfectly executes the trills of "Trumpet Voluntary". "I couldn't even get a Marine barber yet Mac gets a brass section from the band," Harm thinks. His eyes return to the center aisle.  
  
Chloe walks slowly down the aisle.  
  
Harriet follows with a serene smile. She smiles at Bud as she reaches the front of the church.  
  
Little AJ waits for his mother to reach the front of the chapel. When she nods to him, AJ purposefully marches down the aisle, clutching the pillow with the rings tied on with ribbons.  
  
Harm stands with his hands clasped in front of him, loosening them only to give AJ the "thumbs up."  
  
AJ reaches the front of the chapel, pivots like a drilled sailor and stands between Harm and Sturgis.  
  
The organist strikes the first notes of Wagner's Wedding March.  
  
All eyes return to the back of the chapel as Sarah MacKenzie, tough Marine lawyer, begins her glide down the aisle on the arm of the Navy JAG, Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden. The Admiral smiles and makes eye contact with a number of guests: Webb, Tiner, Gunny, Francesca, Meredith, Frank, Trish, and Sarah.  
  
Mac's eyes stare straight ahead locked with the eyes of a tall, handsome Commander. The guests surrounding them have ceased to exist as the Colonel and the Commander have only eyes for each other.  
  
When the Admiral and Mac reach the front of the church, the Admiral takes Mac's hand that has clutched his arm and places it on Harm's extended arm. Harm reaches over with his right hand, now wearing the infamous Naval Academy ring, and squeezes Mac's right hand. He then returns his hand to his side.  
  
"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God to witness the joining of this woman to this man." Chaplain Sturgis begins.  
  
One more now recites the timeless ceremony from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, the ceremony that has united couples for centuries.  
  
"If anyone can show just cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."  
  
Jack Keeter pivots ever so slightly to catch Sturgis' eye and wink.  
  
The ceremony continues. Vows are made.  
  
I, Harmon, take thee, Sarah, to be my lawfully wedded wife."  
  
I, Sarah, take thee, Harmon, to be my lawfully wedded husband.."  
  
And so on.  
  
"With this ring, I thee wed. And with all my earthly goods, I thee endow."  
  
" With this ring, I thee wed. And with all my earthly goods, I thee endow."  
  
Then Chaplain Turner says:  
  
And now, by the power invested in me by the District of Columbia and by the United States Navy, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.  
  
Harm flashes that flyboy smile in a way that has never been so dazzling. Mac's hands reach up, Harms arms encircle Mac's slender body, and all those guests disappear again for about twenty seconds.  
  
Harm and Mac turn and face the congregation. Harriet hands Mac her bouquet of white gardenias, blue iris, and ivy. Chaplain Turner says:  
  
Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce for the first time, Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Jr.  
  
The organist pulls out the stops and lets it rip with the Mendelssohn's Wedding March as the recessional.  
  
When they reach the back of the church, Harm grabs Mac and plants another kiss on her.  
  
Harm: Hello Mrs. Rabb.  
  
Mac: Hello. Do you mind telling me what you did with my flyboy?  
  
Harm: What do you mean?  
  
Mac: By that haircut, I could swear I just married a Marine!  
  
Harm: Do you like it?  
  
Mac: It's a new look for you, kind of sexy.  
  
Harm: The Admiral did it. We were trying to cover the bald spot where my stitches are.  
  
Mac: So what do I have to do to get you to keep it?  
  
Harm: We can negotiate, Counselor.  
  
2200 ZULU  
  
Ballroom at the Senators' Hotel Washington, DC.  
  
The guests and bridal party are finishing dinner. The band members are getting ready to play.  
  
A man steps up to the microphone  
  
"My names is Joe Scarpone. The name of our band is The Apothecaries. We're named that because we are all pharmacists which is how we pay our bills. Being musicians is how we have our fun. The good news is that if the music is killing you, we can actually give you some drugs! We usually only play in the deep south, but the very pretty matron of honor persuaded us that this was a wedding we wouldn't want to miss. We're proud to be a part of a wedding of two members of our Armed Services. For our first number, in honor of the bride and groom, there's a medley of some oldies that we'd like to play"  
  
The band begins to play. Harm leads Mac out on to the dance floor. He takes her in his arms. Joe steps up to the mike and begins:  
  
My Prayer is to linger with you. At the end of the day In a dream Far away.  
  
My prayer and the answer you give, May they still be the same, For as long as we live  
  
That you'll always be there At the end of my prayer  
  
Admiral: Harriet was right. These guys are good. Did Harm take dancing lessons or something? He's never looked that good on the dance floor.  
  
The band swings in to "Unchained Melody"  
  
Oh, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch A long, lonely time.  
  
Time goes by so slowly And time can mean so much Are you still mine?  
  
I need your love I need your love Godspeed your love To me  
  
Joe: Being from the South, we like country music. This next song is a dedication from the groom to his mother. It's an early Garth Brooks number.  
  
Trish walks out on to the floor as Mac exits.  
  
The band begins;  
  
Looking back on the memory of The dance we shared 'neath the stars above For a moment all the world was right How could I have known that you'd ever say good-bye.  
  
And now I'm glad I didn't know. The way it all would end, the way it all would go Our lives are better left to chance; I could have missed the pain But I'd have had to miss the dance.  
  
At this point, a surprise guest escorts Mac on to the floor. The second verse begins as a surprised Mac dances with her mentor and former lover, Col. John Farrow.  
  
Holding you, I held everything For a moment, wasn't I a king? But if I'd only known how the king would fall Hey, who's to say you know, I might have changed it all  
  
A third couple arrives on the floor, Grandma Rabb and Sergei.  
  
My life is better left to chance I could have missed the pain. But I'd have had to miss The Dance.  
  
Yes our lives, are better left to chance We could have missed the pain. But we'd have had to miss The Dance.  
  
Col. Farrow walks with Mac over to Harm. Farrow shakes Harm's hand.  
  
Farrow: She's picked a good man, Harm.  
  
Harm: Thank you, sir.  
  
Farrow: Mac, you be happy (kisses her on the forehead).  
  
Chloe: Harm?  
  
Harm: Yes, sweetie?  
  
Chloe: It's time for our dance.  
  
Harm: What are we doing?  
  
Chloe: You'll see.  
  
Band: I understand that there's a joke about pilots and their wings. Is that true?  
  
Crowd laughs.  
  
Band: Well, we have a song for all the pilots. So, if you're a pilot, come on up here. If you can get somebody to dance with you, bring him or her up too.  
  
Harm, Keeter, Admiral Boone, and Sergei all walk up and stand in front of the band. A few more pilots join the group.  
  
Band: Chloe, are we ready?  
  
Chloe: We're ready.  
  
Band: It's the "Chicken Dance"  
  
I don't want to be a chicken I don't want to be a duck So I just shake  
  
Audience: My big fat butt  
  
I don't want to be a chicken. I don't want to be a duck So I just shake.  
  
Frank Burnett grabs his handkerchief to wipe the tears because he's laughing so hard. The pilots were being good sports with Chloe, but the ballroom is consumed by laughter.  
  
Meredith: AJ, why are you laughing so hard?  
  
AJ: Look at Tom Boone! He'd die if he knew how undignified he looks!  
  
Meredith: AJ, I'm going to the ladies room. Francesca, would you care to come with me?  
  
Francesca: What's that about?  
  
Meredith: I want you to go over to the band and request a song for Admiral Chegwidden from his fiancée. Then tell them it's the Bunny Hop!  
  
Francesca: Oh, Meredith, he'll never do it.  
  
Meredith: You leave that to me.  
  
The band slowed things down and the dance floor filled up. Webb, of course, escorted the lovely Elizabeth Perkins out on to the floor and danced a perfect "Cha Cha" number to Frankie Avalon's "Venus". AJ and Meredith danced. Tiner and Jennifer, Sturgis and Bobbi Lathom were entwined for several songs. Victor and Gloria led the whole floor doing the Electric Slide. Bud and Harriet danced several slow dances, with AJ between them. As soon as the next set of slow songs began, Alex reached for Francesca's hand. Alex and Webb seemed to have a little competition going to see which one was the better dancer. Francesca didn't seem to notice Webb's dancing at all. She was noticing Alex; Alex's eyes never left her face.  
  
Francesca: Do you like American oldies?  
  
Alex: I like a variety of music.  
  
Francesca: Are you familiar with any of this music?  
  
Alex: With you in my arms, I could be dancing to drum beats of a jungle tribe in Indonesia.  
  
Francesca: I'll bet you say that to all the girls.  
  
Alex: I'll bet I don't.  
  
The band kicked into an instrumental set of Big Band tunes, including a Glenn Miller medley.  
  
AJ: Meredith, let's go. Let's show these kids how this is done.  
  
Meredith: Okay.  
  
Tom Boone: Trish, think I could take Frank's place on the dance floor with you?  
  
Trish: Frank?  
  
Frank: Go ahead, sweetie. It's Harm's wedding! Dance!  
  
The trumpet blasted out the first few bars of "In the Mood".  
  
AJ and Meredith and Tom and Trish jitterbugged all over the dance floor. The couples in their twenties and thirties looked on in astonishment as these two couples were joined by several couples in their sixties and seventies who just were swinging all over the place. Then, of course, not to be outdone, Clayton Webb grabbed Betsy and had a go at it. Webb even picked her up and swung her down between his legs.  
  
Mac: Careful of that dress, Webb.  
  
Harm: What are you talking about?  
  
Mac: He'd better not swing her around too much, she's liable to pop right out of that dress.  
  
Harm: And they said our wedding wouldn't be memorable!  
  
Joe the bandleader stepped up to the mike.  
  
Joe: Admiral Cheg----widden, did I get that pronunciation right? Well Admiral, we've had a request for a special song for you from your fiancée. Since you had so much energy on that jitterbug number, you'll be ready for this one. The rest of you can join us here. Just form a line.  
  
Admiral: I don't line dance.  
  
Joe: I'll bet you're from the era that had sock hops.  
  
Admiral: So?  
  
Joe: Ready guys?  
  
The band begins to play the "Bunny Hop"  
  
Admiral Chegwidden shakes his head "NO". Meredith puts her hands on his hips and says, "Lead, Sailor"  
  
Being an uncharacteristically good sport, Admiral leads one circle of the Bunny Hop, especially after his namesake gets in line behind Meredith. How many dances can kids do at a wedding?  
  
Bandleader: This is an anonymous request for a "Sexy Beast" I hope we can do it justice without a female singer.  
  
Nobody does it better Makes me feel sad for the rest Nobody does it half as good as you Baby, you're the best.  
  
I wasn't looking But somehow you found me I tried to hide from your love light But like heaven above me The spy who loved me Is keeping all my secrets safe tonight  
  
And nobody does it better Though sometimes I wish someone could Nobody does it quite the way you do Why'd you have to be so good  
  
The way that you hold me Whenever you hold me There's some kind of magic inside you That keeps me from running But just keep it coming How'd you learn to do the things you do  
  
And nobody does it better Makes me feel sad for the rest Nobody does it half as good as you Baby, baby, darling you're the best.  
  
Baby you're the best.  
  
Once again, Clayton Webb led the dancing, never letting on that the song was for him  
  
Mac: Harm, did you request that song?  
  
Harm smiles.  
  
Mac: Webb and Betsy or Elizabeth or whatever she's called at this function look very comfortable together, don't you think?  
  
Harm: Look at the way he's looking at her.  
  
Admiral: Harm, you used to look at Mac like that and assured us that you were just friends.  
  
Harm: I looked like that?  
  
Harriet: You looked more moonstruck than that.  
  
Bud: Check out Alex and Francesca. There's some heat!  
  
Admiral: I beg your pardon?  
  
Bud: What I meant to say, sir, is that I'm sure they are warm from dancing so much.  
  
Admiral: Why can't she like an American?  
  
Harm: Want me to introduce her to Keeter?  
  
Admiral: No aviators.  
  
Mac: I think John Farrow is still here.  
  
Admiral: I'm beginning to develop a taste for vodka.  
  
Harm: She prefers a military lawyer like her father. Isn't that preferable to an Italian businessman like her stepfather?  
  
Admiral: Good point, Rabb. Her mother will hate him.  
  
Meredith: Her stepmother-to-be likes him. I have it on very good authority that she's very interested in him.  
  
Admiral: Where do you get your facts?  
  
Meredith: From your daughter.  
Harriet: Mac, it's time to toss the garter and the bouquet. Harm, let's go.  
  
Mac sits on a chair in the middle of the dance floor. Harm gets down on one knee beside her.  
  
Keeter: Better get used to that position, Hammer. You'll be begging for the rest of your life.  
  
Everyone laughs.  
  
Mac has pushed the garter down below her knee. Harm takes it off and prepares to throw it to the group of assembled bachelors behind him.  
  
Harm: Okay, we have two engaged men in this group. Let's see if I can hit one of them.  
  
Sergei and AJ line up toward the front. Harm turns around.  
  
Harm: Three, two, one, BLASTOFF!  
  
Harm tosses the garter. Admiral Chegwidden tips it toward Sergei, but Keeter reaches in at the last minute to propel it back into the air. The entire group backs away as the garter lands...on Clayton Webb's head. Webb had turned his back on the group to answer his cell phone. He reaches up and pulls a garter off his head. He looks at it, smiles, and slides it up his sleeve above his elbow.  
  
Admiral: Mr. Webb, something you're not telling us?  
  
Webb: So many things I'm not telling you. (Smiles).  
  
Harriet: Okay, let's throw the bouquet and see who's the lucky girl to be married next.  
  
Mac picks up the throwaway bouquet.  
  
Mac: Ready girls? Meredith, how's your catch?  
  
Meredith: I'm on the faculty softball team!  
  
Mac: Ready? Three, two, one, BLASTOFF!  
  
Meredith tries to catch the bouquet but trips over Galena who's also reaching for it. Diving to the ground as the bouquet almost hits the ground is.....Francesca.  
  
Admiral: What?  
  
Francesca lands with a thud. Alex immediately scoops her up off the floor, carries her to a chair, and begins checking her for injuries.  
  
Bud: He's chivalrous.  
  
Harriet: Strong.  
  
Bud: Attentive.  
  
Harriet: Smitten.  
  
Bud: Okay, I think we've about covered that one.  
  
The Admiral walks over and speaks.  
  
Admiral: Francesca, whatever possessed you to dive for that catch?  
  
Francesca: You taught me to love baseball, Papa`. You wouldn't want me to miss a catch like that one, would you?  
  
Admiral mutters to himself: The bouquet or the guy?  
  
Francesca: Either one, Papa`, either one. (Smiles)  
  
Harm and Mac return to the dance floor as the band begins to play. Frank wheels his wheelchair out with Trish following. Frank stops the chair and pulls his wife on to his lap. He moves the chair slowly, dancing with his wife.  
  
Trish: Frank I don't want to injure you.  
  
Frank: Stay to one side and keep the pressure off the stitches. We'll be fine.  
  
The band plays and Joe sings:  
  
Look at us After all these years together Look at us After all that we've been through Look at us Still leaning on each other If you wanna see how true love should be Then just look at us  
  
Look at you Still pretty as a picture Look at me Still crazy over you Look at us Still believing in forever If you wanna see how true love should be Then just look at us  
  
In a hundred years from now I know without a doubt They'll all look back And wonder how We made it all work out.  
  
Chances are We'll go down in history When they wanna see how true love should be They'll just look at us  
  
When they wanna see how true love should be They'll just look at us.  
  
The room exploded in applause as Frank kisses his bride and Harm kisses his.  
  
Harm: Sarah?  
  
Mac: Hmm?  
  
Harm: When do we get to leave?  
  
Mac: After we cut the cake.  
  
Harm: Where's the knife?  
  
Harm turns and signals Harriet to tell the band to stop playing so that they can cut the cake.  
  
The band plays soft background music.  
  
Harm and Mac cut the first piece of cake, place it on a plate, and cut it in half. Harm takes the carrot cake and carefully slides it into Mac's open mouth. She grabs his fingers and licks the icing off.  
  
Harm: I'm ready to leave NOW.  
  
Mac: It's my turn.  
  
Harm: Be gentle.  
  
Mac: Right.  
  
Mac picks up the cake, and as she's trying to put it in Harm's mouth, Sturgis and Keeter shout "Boo" from behind Mac's back. She startles and pushes the cake into Harm's nose.  
  
Harriet grabs a stack of napkins and hands them to Mac. Mac begins wiping Harm's face, trying to keep from laughing.  
  
Harm: I owe you two. It'll be sweet too, I promise. If either one of you bozos can even get CLOSE to an altar, I will be there with revenge as a wedding gift.  
  
Harm walks over the mike: Everybody, thank you for making today so special. Thank you each for the part you've played in our lives. Since it's time for us to open a new chapter in our lives, we think we'll get started now.  
  
Mac: Bye!  
  
Harriet whispers something in Mac's ear and Mac nods.  
  
Harm and Mac walk down the hall and enter the elevator. The doors close and they embrace passionately.  
  
Mac: Harm, somebody might get on.  
  
Harm: No way. I pressed Express to the penthouse.  
  
Mac: Still, you told me I could surprise you.  
  
Harm: That I did. Okay. What's a few more minutes added to seven YEARS?  
  
Harm opens the hotel room door.  
  
Mac: Do NOT pick me up. The doctor said no lifting.  
  
Harm: Mac.  
  
Mac: Harm, I need you to do me a favor.  
  
Harm: Anything.  
  
Mac: Can you give me a couple of minutes to get out of this gown?  
  
Harm: I can help you and it'll only take me a few seconds.  
  
Mac: Harriet's coming up to help me.  
  
Harm: Harriet?  
  
Mac: Please don't ruin my surprise.  
  
Harm: Okay, I'm a little sweaty from all the dancing. How about if I take a quick shower? Will that give you enough time?  
  
Mac: Perfect.  
  
Harm: Kiss me first.  
  
Mac: Go.  
  
Harm opens his sea bag and takes out a pair of silk pajama bottoms.  
  
Harm: I'll be in here if you need me.  
  
Mac: I'll call you if I do.  
  
Harm closes the bathroom door.  
  
Mac rushes to the door and opens it to Harriet carrying a bag and a fruit basket.  
  
Mac: Fruit?  
  
Harriet: Some bellhop gave it to me while I was waiting in the hall. I wouldn't let him knock on the door.  
  
Mac: Who sent us fruit and champagne? Is there a card?  
  
Harriet: No card. Maybe it's from the hotel. Let me get going on those hundred buttons.  
  
Harriet quickly undoes Mac's gown while Mac unbuttons the sleeves.  
  
Harriet: Are you leaving those on (eyeing Mac's strapless bra and tap pants)?  
  
Mac: Well, I'm not taking them off in front of you.  
  
Harriet: Afraid I'll see the infamous tatoo?  
  
Mac: We've got to hurry. He won't take much longer. Get the fabric and wrap me up.  
  
Harriet removes the gold lame` fabric from the bag and wraps Mac in it.  
  
She then removes a length of red ribbon with a huge bow tied at one end.  
  
Harriet: Why can't you just wear a nightie like every other bride?  
  
Mac: Sturgis' dad told us to make the honeymoon a gift.  
  
Harriet finishes tying the bow so that the fabric stays up.  
  
Harriet: I'm out of here. You're on your own, Marine.  
  
Mac: Harriet, take my gown. Send it to the cleaners on Monday.  
  
Harriet grabs the gown and rushes out of the room  
  
Harm: Can I come out now?  
  
Mac: You sure can.  
  
Harm walks out and sees Mac wrapped up like a Christmas present.  
  
Harm: Well, Merry Christmas, Harm. Come here, you sweet thing.  
  
Mac: That would be ideal, but Harriet wrapped me so tight that I can't move.  
  
Harm: I guess I'll just have to unwrap you.  
  
Mac: That would be the general idea.  
  
Harm begins to walk toward her when something catches his eye.  
  
Harm: Mac?  
  
Mac: Yes?  
  
Harm: Where did that basket come from?  
  
Mac: That, oh, Harriet brought it in with her. Some bellhop was delivering it.  
  
Harm walks past Mac and over to the basket. He tears through it, removes the label from the bottle of champagne and reveals a bug.  
  
He holds his finger to his lips and hold up the bug with the other hand. He walks into the bathroom speaks loudly into the bug.  
  
Harm: This is what I think of your ploy, whoever you are.  
  
He flushes the bug down the toilet.  
  
Mac giggles. He returns to her and slowly begins to untie her and unwind the ribbon. He throws the ribbon at the chair. Then he gently pulls one end of the fabric as Mac spins until the fabric falls to the floor. Mac reaches up to Harm and he pulls her to him when suddenly he stops.  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Harm puts his finger to his lips.  
  
He walks over to the desk, pulls out a pad and pen and writes "Trust me?"  
  
Mac nods.  
  
Harm grabs Mac's trenchcoat, puts it on her, and walks her to the door. He looks back, picks up the ribbon and stuffs it in the pocket of his jacket. He walks back to the desk and picks up a hotel stationery envelope. He grabs both suitcases and carefully opens the door so as not to make a sound. They enter the service elevator rather than the express elevator. The doors close.  
  
Mac: What are we doing?  
  
Harm: I'm not taking the chance of putting on a show, sound or otherwise, for anyone.  
  
Mac: You found the bug.  
  
Harm: You don't think there are more?  
  
Mac: We are never going to get this job done.  
  
Harm: Yes we are, or I'm going to die trying. Press the button for the 3rd floor.  
  
Mac: Why?  
  
Harm: Because we're going down the steps from there. If someone is bugging us, they may be watching us. I don't want to go through the lobby.  
  
Harm pulls out a pocketknife, cuts a length of ribbon, scribbles a note on the ribbon, and puts it in the envelope.  
  
Mac: What are you doing?  
  
Harm: Sending a note to the good chaplain.  
  
Mac: What does it say?  
  
Harm: That's between the chaplain and me.  
  
The elevator stops and the two walk toward the stairs. Harm stops and puts the envelope in the old-fashioned mail slot to go down to the main desk.  
  
They descend the stairs and walk out into the parking lot.  
  
Harm tosses the keys to Mac.  
  
Harm: You drive. I'm not cleared to drive yet.  
  
Mac: Where to?  
  
Harm: Home.  
  
Mac: Which home?  
  
Harm: Our home.  
  
Mac points the car toward the farm.  
  
0300 ZULU  
  
Rabb Farm Loudin County, Virginia  
  
Harm's Lexus pulls up to the darkened farmhouse. Mac parks the SUV and the two get out and walk in step up the porch steps. Harm unlocks the front door, scoops Mac into his arms and carries her across the threshold.  
  
Mac: You could hurt yourself.  
  
Harm: No I can't. I was born to do this.  
  
He carries her to the bedroom, switches on the light, and notices a note on the bed. He drops Mac on the bed, picks the note up, and reads aloud:  
  
The sheets are clean. I knew you'd come here. May tonight be the beginning of your dreams coming true. Love, Grandma  
  
Mac sings: Fly me to the moon!  
  
Harm croons: Off we go, into the wild blue yonder  
  
Mac: The Air Force? Yuk!  
  
SCENE FADES OUT.  
29 March 2003  
  
1100 ZULU  
  
Harm is lying in bed staring into space. Mac is nestled with her head on his shoulder, sleeping peacefully. She begins to stir.  
  
Harm: Good morning, Sarah Rabb.  
  
Mac: Good morning. This wasn't all a dream, was it?  
  
Harm: You can pinch me anywhere you want, or I can pinch you. I need to get my watch to see what time it is.  
  
Mac: It's 0614.  
  
Harm: I wonder what time we have to meet Webb.  
  
Mac: I think at 1030, why?  
  
Harm: Just planning my morning. Are you hungry?  
  
Mac: I think for the first time that I'm actually satiated.  
  
Harm: I love it when you talk that way.  
  
Mac: I'd like to get a shower.  
  
Harm: Lead on, Marine.  
  
Mac: Really?  
  
Harm: The Navy does some of its best work under the water. Don't you Marines pride yourselves in being capable of amphibious operations?  
  
Mac: Guess you'll have to find out.  
  
SCENE FADES.  
1430 ZULU  
  
Harm is dressed in a pair of jeans and a white cotton sweater. His hair is wet from the shower. Mac is in the bathroom.  
  
Harm punches a phone number into his cell phone.  
  
The call is picked up  
  
Webb: Webb.  
  
Harm: Good morning, Clayton. I trust you had a profitable evening.  
  
Webb: Hello, Mother. Why don't you tell me where you are so that I can call you right back? I'm in the middle of something.  
  
Harm: I've been called many things, Webb, but never Mother.  
  
Webb: Well, you know how it is.  
  
Harm: We're at the farm. We didn't think your bug was funny last night.  
  
Webb: I'm not knowledgeable about that type of insect, Mother. We'll have to call an exterminator. I'll call you back in a few minutes. I love you too.  
  
Harm: Well, that was weird.  
  
Mac: What?  
  
Mac walks into the room. She's wearing jeans, boots, and a taupe ribbed turtleneck.  
  
Harm: Something has happened. Webb was calling me "mother" as if he didn't want anyone to know he was talking to me. We need to wait for his call.  
  
Mac's cell telephone begins to chirp.  
  
Harm: Don't answer it until you look at the caller ID.  
  
Mac: It's Webb.  
  
Mac answers the phone: Colonel MacKenzie, I mean Rabb.  
  
Harm smiles.  
  
Mac: Yes. No, we don't have a TV out here. Was anyone hurt? Okay. We'll wait here. Okay, then in the barn. See you in an hour. Bye.  
  
Harm: What happened?  
  
Mac: Our hotel room blew up at midnight last night. The people in two rooms below us were killed. The bomb was under the bed with a pressure trigger.  
  
Harm: Who got on the bed?  
  
Mac: No one, there was a back up timer that timed out.  
  
Harm: So somebody tried to kill us. Who?  
  
Mac: If you hadn't made me leave -. Let's get out of here. Make the bed and gather up our stuff. We're supposed to hide in the barn until Webb gets here. He wants us out of here ASAP.  
  
Harm: Does my mother know?  
  
Mac: Everybody thinks we're dead. I'm sure Webb will tell your mother when he can. They are doing DNA checks to see what parts of us they can find.  
  
Harm: Gives new meaning to "Blast Off".  
  
Mac: Let's go. I'll move the car.  
  
Harm: I hope he brings us some breakfast. I feel like I've run a marathon.  
  
Mac: Your race with me is just beginning, babe.  
  
THE END  
  
Author's Note: If I get enough reviews/requests, I'll write Part II. I have a minimum threshold number of reviews in mind. This takes too much time if nobody reads it. Some ideas are spinning around in my JAG obsessed mind. So many interesting characters; so little time. 


	9. Chapter 9 Mission Regrouped

Part II  
Chapter 9  
Mission: Regroup  
  
Disclaimer: JAG and its characters are the property of Bellisarius Productions, CBS, and Paramount.  
  
A few readers have requested that I consider not writing in play format so much. I'll see how it goes. :).  
  
29 March 2003 1500 ZULU  
  
Special Agent Clayton Webb punches the off button of his cell phone as Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden blusters his way through the myriad FBI, ATF, and CIA agents surrounding Webb. "What happened here, Webb?" Chegwidden commands. The fact that Webb was not in the Admiral's chain of command mattered little to either of them; the depth of their professional relationship demanded an honesty that neither had the authority to demand otherwise.  
  
Webb raises his eyes to meet the hawkish eyes of the Admiral and answers, "Walk with me." The two men walk away from the command center in the hotel lobby toward a hall leading to private banquet rooms. Webb speaks softly, "The bed in Rabb's hotel room was booby-trapped with a trigger switch. As a fail-safe, another timed switch was also attached. It went off at midnight. The concussion of the explosion caused the floor trusses underneath to collapse, killing the people in the two rooms directly below the penthouse. One was occupied by a Chinese businessman from Hong Kong. The other was a couple from Nebraska celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary. We've got their bodies, relatively intact."  
  
Chegwidden exhales, "And Harm and Mac?"  
  
"No large pieces. Between you and me, they weren't there."  
  
"What? Where were they?"  
  
"AJ, Harm called me. They are at the farm. Last night, someone sent a fruit basket to their room, and Harm found a bug. He thought I did it, so he took Mac and left. It was just a coincidence that they left. He didn't know anything."  
  
"Did you plant the bug?"  
  
"No, but I can't promise that someone in the company didn't."  
  
"Don't you people have any sense of decency? It was their wedding night!"  
  
"For what was supposed to be a staged marriage, AJ. How could I have known that Rabb would suddenly get religion and stop dancing around the issue? They've only been shadow boxing for seven years. I assumed that after Mac and Mic broke up then Harm and Renee broke up, if they really liked each other, there was no reason to be apart. What did they do for almost two years? Not a thing."  
  
"Webb, what are you going to do with them now?"  
  
"I'm sending them to Scotland for a week. I'll keep a lid on things here and see if I can find the leak here and plug it. You will be the only other person who knows that they are alive. Our forensics people are going to start to suspect it when they can't find any parts, but I'm just trying to buy time. I know that it stinks, but Rabb's mother can't know. She needs to play the part of the grieving mother."  
  
"That's not too kind to a woman who has given plenty for her country."  
  
"We could leak a story that we're wondering if they've been kidnapped."  
  
"That seems preferable to the first scenario."  
  
"I'll have our press people leak that in a day or two. You can tell Mrs. Rabb today or tonight. Ask her to stay away from the press and not to talk to anyone. No family friends, etc. I don't know who's behind this, and I need time. You can announce the hostage theory to the JAG's with security clearance tomorrow. Here comes Chaplain Sturgis. Let's keep a lid on this, AJ."  
  
AJ turns and greets his old friend. "Padre, do you have any words of wisdom for us?"  
  
Chaplain Turner holds up an envelope and speaks, "The front desk had this for me when I was checking out. I thought it might be important. It seems I'm holding some of Commander Rabb's last words."  
  
Webb, grabbing the envelope, questions, "What? What is this and what does it mean 'Thanks for the suggestion. What a gift!' Is this code? What's with the ribbon?"  
  
Turner smiles as he retrieves the piece of ribbon, "I suggested that Harm and Mac slow down on their physical relationship until they were married. I believe they took my advice to save it as a wedding gift. I just hope that means they died happy."  
  
Webb responds, "You know what they say about dying with a smile on your face. Oh, sorry, maybe they don't say that in your circles."  
  
The Admiral interrupts, "Webb, I don't really think now is the time for humor. If you don't mind, Padre, I'm going to keep this as possible evidence. Have you shown this or mentioned this message to anyone?"  
  
Turner replies, "The desk clerk saw me open it but didn't get a look at the message. I saw you over here and thought you might want to see it. Do you want me to keep this quiet?"  
  
Admiral Chegwidden stares at the ribbon and answers him, "This may be evidence in a criminal case. Let's turn it over to the investigating authorities and keep our mouths closed. I'm thinking that Trish Burnett could use your counsel about now. Why don't you and I find her and see how we can help her? Webb, you can take care of the evidence for me, right?"  
  
Webb sigh, "I'll handle the evidence and the rest of what we've talked about. Pencil in some time for me in the morning, Admiral. I'll need to brief you."  
  
Admiral Chegwidden tosses his answer over his shoulder as he walks away with Chaplain Turner, "Will do."  
  
Senator's Hotel Suite of Trish and Frank Burnett  
  
Trish sits staring at a fire in a gas fireplace. Frank sits on the arm of her chintz wing chair with one hand resting on her shoulder. Sarah Rabb sits on the couch with Sergei and Galena flanking her. No one speaks to pierce the silence resulting from the shock of the last ten hours.  
  
The reverie is shattered by a knock on the door. Sergei untangles himself from his grandmother and yanks the door open to find Admiral Chegwidden and Chaplain Turner. With a nod of his head, Sergei motions for the men to enter. The Chaplain immediately goes to Trish and kneels at her feet. Sarah Rabb stoically stands before the Admiral as Sergei returns to the couch and to Galena's embrace.  
  
Mrs. Rabb raises her eyes to meet those of the Admiral and softly questions him, "What do you know, Admiral?"  
  
Chegwidden attempts to avoid her penetrating gaze and answers, "Well, Mrs. Rabb, we are still in the questioning stage. We're just trying to absorb all the facts before forming any hypotheses."  
  
Sarah smirks, "Admiral, you've either found their bodies or you haven't. They are either still in the wreckage or they are not. That's what I want to know. I don't want to grieve if there's no need to grieve. I'm an old woman. I think I'm a fair judge of character. I'm not going to upset Trish with my theories, but I do not see the need to grieve yet. I especially don't see it when I look into your eyes."  
  
Chegwidden keeps his head bowed and his voice to a whisper but raises his eyes to meet hers, "Ma'am, we haven't yet found their bodies. I will tell you when we do."  
  
Sarah Rabb flashes a quick smile at him, "That's all I wanted to know."  
  
Sergei walks over to the Admiral and Sarah. "Grandmother, Galena is scheduled for a flight to Germany. We're not sure what she should do, but I'm going to have to take her to the airport to meet with her supervisor."  
  
Sarah Rabb answers Sergei gently, "You need to go, but I want you to wait for me. I'll go with you. I can't bear sitting here waiting for bad news. I'll need to tell Trish."  
  
Sarah walks over to Trish and places her hand on Trish's arm. "Trish, Sergei needs to take Galena to the airport. I'm going to ride along with them so that Sergei isn't alone if Galena has to work her flight. I'm going to have him take me out to the farm. I'd like to remember some happier moments right now."  
  
Trish speaks tearfully, "But don't you think you should stay with us, in case - "  
  
Sarah smiles patronizingly at her daughter-in-law, "Honey, what will be, will be. The Admiral just told me that they haven't found anything yet. Maybe they escaped somehow. I don't want to give you false hope, honey, but we each must face this in our own way. Mine is to smell the dirt and hay and remember Harm when he was happy and when he was, you know, alive."  
  
At the word alive, Trish let the sobs rise to the surface. Frank sinks to his knees and envelops his wife in his arms. He looks over his shoulder toward Sarah and nods, implying that he understands her need to leave.  
  
Sergei meets Sarah at the door and opens it for her. Sarah looks back at the Admiral with a knowing look, meets his gaze, and winks.  
  
1500 ZULU Rabb Farm Loudin County, Virginia  
  
Hayloft of the Barn  
  
Mac Rabb leans back against her husband's chest as he straddles her between his long legs. She sighs with contentment. Harm buries his face in her hair and breathes in the scent of her and asks, "Are you happy?"  
  
Mac smiles as she answers, "I feel so complete. I'm not sure when I've ever felt so completely satisfied." Harm reaches for her left hand with his left hand and rotates the wedding band. "Did you read the inscription?"  
  
Mac spins around to look at him and replies, "I didn't know you put an inscription." She pulls the ring off and holds it up to the light that streams in through the barn window. "Song of Solomon 5:16. Harm, I don't have a clue as to what that means."  
  
Harm takes the ring and places it back on Mac's finger and kisses her gently, "That verse says, "This is my beloved, and this is my friend."  
  
Mac smiles incredulously, "How did you find that verse?"  
  
Harm grins, "I was a good Sunday School boy."  
  
Mac giggles and asks, "Then what happened?"  
  
Harm looks up at the barn rafters and says, "Well, life happened, and I began to question everything that I had always believed. Grandma never questioned, and I guess I see her as having more guts and more answers than the rest of us. I'm just starting to see that there really is a God, and He's never really let go of me. That's why I keep living when I should be dead!"  
  
Mac softly asks, "We really are friends, aren't we?"  
  
Harm gathers her into his arms, "Well, there are twenty-three other hours in the day, or in our case, somewhat less than that. Somebody had better like somebody else. Yes, you are my beloved, the one woman I adore, and you are also my friend, my soul mate, my confidante, my everything."  
  
Mac nuzzles his neck and purrs, "The Marines pride themselves on being the complete package."  
  
Harm quips back, "Oh, and have you found the Navy lacking?"  
  
Mac smiles, "Well, they may lack in certain areas, but those aviators certainly defy the limits of physical science."  
  
Harm tosses her against a hay bale and questions, "In what areas do we lack, exactly, Colonel?"  
  
Mac laughs, "Well, the Navy tends to be indecisive and late and its communications need to be brought into the twenty-first century, but their fire-power and technical expertise is -"  
  
Harm pins her to the ground and queries, "Is what?"  
  
Mac smiles and fires back, "Unparalleled."  
  
Harm gathers her back into his arms and whispers, "Maybe it's because we love it so much."  
  
Mac closes her eyes and smiles, "Like I said, the Marines are going to work on the communications systems, but I think this is going to be a successful mission."  
  
Harm says, "Oh you do? (pauses) Did you hear something?"  
  
Mac answers, "Maybe it's Webb with our breakfast. I'm getting hungry."  
  
Harm unwraps his arms and legs from around Mac and stands to look out the window. He lowers his shoulders as he reports, "It's not Webb with breakfast. It's Sergei and Grandma. They are going into the house. Oh, poor Grandma. She must think we're dead and be so upset. Webb said to stay hidden. I can't watch this. She's suffering."  
  
Mac stands to join him at the window. "Go sit. I'll watch until they leave. It'll be okay. I'm sure we'll be able to tell them soon. I'll ask Webb when he gets here."  
  
Mac stands watching out the window as Harm sits with his arms on his knees and his head bowed. Suddenly, Mac holds her finger to her lips and dashes behind a stack of hay bales. She mouths, "She's coming here" as she points to the ground. Harm covers himself with hay and lies perfectly still.  
  
From below, the sound of the barn door creaks opens. Sarah Rabb walks into the barn and over to Ninja's stall and speaks to the horse, "Hey girl. Let me find you some oats. Would you like that?" She fills the oat bucket and pats the horse's neck as she begins munching. "You know, we've had an interesting day or so. We had a beautiful wedding and a nice reception. We danced and laughed. We toasted this happy couple only to have them disappear. There are all kinds of people who are telling us that the bride and groom are dead, but you and I know better, don't we, girl? You see, I was just in the house and I know when a bed has been slept in. I KNOW when a note I left is gone. I can feel damp towels. I may be old, but that DOESN'T MAKE ME STUPID!" The horse startled when Sarah raised her voice but she continued on, "I ALSO KNOW THAT SOMETIMES PEOPLE CAN'T TELL YOU THE TRUTH, BUT THAT DOESN'T CHANGE THINGS. I KNOW ALL ABOUT HIDING IN HAY MOWS TOO. I AM A FARM GIRL, AFTERALL. SO, LET'S JUST BE CLEAR ABOUT WHAT'S GOING ON. NOTHING MORE NEEDS TO BE SAID." With that, she pats the horse on the neck and scratches her behind the ears.  
  
In the hay mow, Harm listens to his grandmother's comforting words, uncovers himself and stands. He looks down at his grandmother as she looks up. Their eyes meet and Sarah Rabb smiles at her grandson. Harm blows her a kiss and smiles. Grandma Rabb raises her eyebrows. Harm responds by reaching for something with his right hand and pulls Mac to him. The couple stands silently as they exchange final looks with the old lady. Sarah smiles and turns back to the horse and chuckles, "Like I said, Ninja, no words need to be spoken. Except these, most people who are missing do a better job of HIDING THEIR CARS!"  
  
Harm and Mac look at each other in realization that anyone looking for them could easily find Harm's SUV in the barn.  
  
Sarah leaves the barn and walks over to the car where Sergei awaits her. He opens his arms and embraces her. She reaches up and pats his cheek, reassuring him. They turn and look as another vehicles pulls into the farm lane.  
  
Sarah confronts a flustered Clayton Webb as he steps out of his car. "If you're looking for Harm, he's not here."  
  
Webb regains his composure and answers her, "Why would I look for him here? I'm here to look for other clues as to who was after him. If they booby trapped his hotel room, they may have been here too."  
  
Sarah ignores Webb, turns to Sergei, and suggests, "Sergei, Trish probably needs us. Let's let this federal employee waste the taxpayer's money."  
  
Sergei helps his grandmother into the passenger side of the car and walks around to the driver's side. Over the roof of the car he calls to Webb, "Please, try to find out who did this."  
  
Webb nods, "I'll do my best." He watches Sergei start the car and begin to pull away. He notices that Sarah Rabb is staring at him and he looks at her but must stifle the smile he feels forming when, at the last minute, she winks at him and smiles.  
  
The car drives down the lane and turns on to the county highway. Webb pauses and looks around, almost sniffing the air to see what things his sixth sense tells him about who might be watching. He walks into the barn as Harm and Mac descend the ladder.  
  
Harm barks, "We need to get rid of my truck."  
  
Mac smiles shyly at Webb as Webb stares curiously at her.  
  
Webb looks at Harm and says, "Sleep okay?"  
  
Harm smiles and good-naturedly retorts, "None of your business. Did you bring any food? I've got a hungry Marine on my hands."  
  
Webb realizes that he's looking at a newly cemented couple and suddenly feels self-conscious, as if he's intruding on an intimate moment. "Harm, you and Mac take my car. There are bagels and coffee in the front seat. I'll drive your car to the Wal-Mart in Bethesda. We'll leave it there. Pick me up and then we'll head to the airport. I know we have some of your luggage. Do you have your stuff from last night?"  
  
Harm answers, "Up in the loft. I'll get it." He charges up the ladder as Mac and Webb exit the barn.  
  
Mac pauses to pat her horse, "Bye, baby. I'll see you as soon as I can. Farmer Thompson will feed you and let you out to run. Hold off on foaling till I get back. I don't want to miss it."  
  
She instinctively kisses her horse on the neck and walks away. Harm pats the horse on his way by the stall and follows Mac through the barn door and out into the yard. They jump into Webb's car and follow him out the lane and toward the Maryland border.  
  
Mac rips the bag open and pulls out a sunflower bagel smothered in cream cheese. She reaches back into the bag and pulls out a garlic bagel with a trace of cream cheese. She frowns at it, and then asks, "Which one do you want?"  
  
Harm grins and replies, "The one that won't clog my arteries."  
  
Mac giggles, "Oh, I was hoping you'd take that one. I'll unwrap it for you. Can you drive and eat?"  
  
Harm eyes her and suggests, "You could feed me."  
  
Mac, her mouth filled with her bagel, mumbles, "Oh, yeah, I guess I could."  
  
Harm reaches over and takes the bagel from Mac's lap and resigns, "Never mind. I wouldn't think of coming between you and your consumption of food- and women say that men can't do more than one thing at a time."  
  
Mac swallows and replies, "Harm, I need to eat to keep up my strength, so that I can keep up with you, you know."  
  
"Good recovery, Marine. I know just where I rate with you. Somewhere below food. Where's my coffee?"  
  
"Black or sweetened with sugar?"  
  
"Black."  
  
"Oh good! I could use the sugar."  
  
"Now I know why you have to run fifteen miles instead of ten."  
  
"Are you complaining?"  
  
"Not in the least. You continue to amaze me, Sarah."  
  
1800 ZULU Fairfax County Airport Fairfax, Virginia  
  
Webb exits his car and speaks to a pilot as he inspects a small jet. Webb motions to the car and Harm and Mac exit, carrying luggage. They hurriedly climb the several steps into the plane and disappear. Webb follows them. The pilot continues his pre-flight inspection.  
  
Webb clears his throat as he approaches the embracing couple. Harm steps back from Mac and speaks over his shoulder to Webb.  
  
"I know you're here. What?"  
  
"This pilot will fly you to Teaneck. From there, you'll get on another flight to Edinburgh. Jim Scopes will pick you up and drive you to the castle. They should have supplies laid in for you. I don't want you leaving the castle grounds to go into town. Someone could spot you and blow the cover. I'll be there on Saturday to pick you up and then we'll fly to Baghdad together. I'm hoping that I can plug the hole that led to last night's mishap."  
  
Harm tersely replies, "Who knows we're alive?"  
  
"The Admiral and a couple of agents."  
  
"And my grandmother."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She came into the barn before you got there."  
  
"And you talked to her? I told you-"  
  
"No, I didn't say a word. She did all the talking, to the horse! She made it clear that she knew I wasn't dead. She went into the house and felt the towels. Maybe you should use grandmothers as agents, Webb. She's more intuitive than most."  
  
"We're leaking the story that you're hostages. The Admiral thinks that'll be easier on your mother."  
  
"Tell the Admiral thank you. Any more directives for us on the next week?"  
  
"You won't like it."  
  
Mac perks up and says, "What won't we like?"  
  
Webb smiles at her and looks away, "Don't get pregnant."  
  
Mac looks incredulously at Webb and says, "Excuse me?"  
  
Webb looks imploringly at Harm and states, "You didn't tell her, did you?  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
Harm speaks softly, "It really wasn't foremost on my mind, Clayton."  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
Webb shrugs his shoulders and extends his hands. "Look, Mac, I don't care what you two do or don't do after this mission is over, but I really don't want you in potentially dangerous situations and, well, distracted because you're in the family way."  
  
Mac swaggers up to Webb and barks, "Look, it's none of your business what I, I mean we, choose to do or not do."  
  
Harm tries to pacify the situation, "Mac, Webb talked to me about it before the wedding. I should have said something to you last night, but I, well you know, that wasn't exactly fitting with the mood, and I sort of - "  
  
Webb interrupts, "Look, this is more than I want to know. Let's just say, if it happens, or has already happened, we'll deal with it. I would just like you to postpone whatever personal plans you may have for, say six months. Enough said?"  
  
Mac smiles, "Well, chances are"  
  
"I don't want to know about the odds! You're making me sorry I ever brought it up. I'm still trying to get used to this curve ball you threw me."  
  
Harm interrupts him, "Curve ball?"  
  
"I chose you two because for seven years, you've worked together like gears in a clock. You never got together, so I figured you never would. Then, Rabb, you decide to fall in love or whatever you've done and now I have to worry about, about consequences of being something other than actors."  
  
Mac quips, "Well, Webb, that's just too bad. We'll be happy to go back to JAG and you can find another couple of suckers.  
  
"I considered that a week ago. I almost carried through on it too, but then Harm got kidnapped last Thursday and it was an obvious swing at me. I have a problem that I think is from within the company."  
  
"Within? You have Syrian terrorists operating from within?" Harm queries.  
  
"C'mon, Harm. You know the business well enough to know that you never use your own people to do that which you can use someone else to do for you. We're not getting the usual junk from the two guys we took into custody. They are just lackeys for someone else. I'm just perplexed about who that is."  
  
"Could be any one of a thousand enemies you have, Webb," Mac joked.  
  
"The Admiral told me once that you were two of the only friends I had."  
  
"He was right. We do enjoy this love/hate relationship we have going. Any last instructions, Dad?" Harm asks.  
  
"No, I'll be in touch. You have my number. Have Mac call and say that she's Sandy Turner."  
  
"Sandy Turner, who's that?"  
  
"My junior high girl friend," laughed Webb.  
  
Harm walks Webb to the doorway. "Give me a bug detector," Harm demands.  
  
"Why? Our people will have gone over the castle."  
  
"Your people went over the penthouse suite too."  
  
"You're paranoid, Rabb."  
  
"No, I'm private, Webb, especially with Mac. Nobody needs to hear our pillow talk."  
  
"I can't think of anyone who wants to, Harm."  
  
"Give me the tool.please."  
  
"I have one in the trunk of the car. I'll toss it to you. Call me when you're settled in."  
  
Webb descends the stairs, opens the trunk, pulls out a package and tosses it to Harm. Harm raises his hand in a mock salute as the pilot folds up the stairs.  
  
2400 ZULU  
  
20,000 FT ABOVE THE ATLANTIC OCEAN  
  
Harm looks over at his dozing wife and considers his fortune. On the positive side, he married the woman he loves, he has a successful career, and he's on his way to Scotland for a week of honeymooning. On the negative side, someone is trying to kill him. He breathes a prayer for safety, "Oh, please, God. I'm not ready to die yet. I have Mac now and I want to live. I want to have children and be the father that was taken from me. Could you give us that?"  
  
Mac sits up suddenly and looks around. "Hey, baby, are you okay?" she asks as she looks at the haunted look in Harm's eyes.  
  
Harm smiles and says, "I'm just counting my blessings."  
  
"Am I in there anywhere?"  
  
"You fill out the top ten."  
  
"You're a smooth operator, Rabb."  
  
"Mac?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I've been thinking about what Webb said about, you know, having a baby. Well, I've been replaying the conversation in my mind and your response."  
  
"Harm, communicate, don't dance around the subject."  
  
"Well, how long would it be before we know?"  
  
"Two weeks."  
  
"Really? So that means that you're - "  
  
"Right in the middle of the fertile zone."  
  
Harm smiles.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, I just kind of like the idea of knowing what kind of stud I am."  
  
"Harm! You make it sound like I'm a brood mare that you just serviced."  
  
"Mac, there's something kind of novel about exploring my virility."  
  
"You are almost forty years old. Stop acting like a teen-ager."  
  
"Mac, this is a new paradigm. Men spend their lives trying to, well, you know"  
  
"Trying to sample the goods without buying the package?"  
  
"Kind of. Only I bought this time. Now, I'm trying to see what kind of new packages I can create!"  
  
"I see. I think it would serve you right if we had only daughters. Then you'd get a new perspective on all those potential samplers running around."  
  
"I think I would invest in some serious hunting rifles that needed to be cleaned every time a young man came calling."  
  
"Nah, your Marine wife will train her girls just how to handle handsome playboys like their father."  
  
"Playboys? Me? Never. I have always been a gentleman. Well, at least with anyone I've dated since I met you. For the most part, anyway. Oh man!"  
  
"You notice which woman got bought before she got sampled?"  
  
"The one I should have married in Russia the first time?"  
  
"You never told me that!"  
  
"Do you have any idea how many times I've replayed that hotel scene in my head?"  
  
"Really? Do tell, Commander."  
  
"Aw Mac, I got weak-kneed every time I thought of you. I knew I couldn't control you or manipulate you. You weren't my equal; you exceeded me. You scared me."  
  
"When did that change?"  
  
"Honestly?"  
  
"I don't want it any other way."  
  
"At your engagement party. When I kissed you, I felt like Dorothy in the "Wizard of Oz". I kept thinking 'There's no place like home.' When you told me that we were getting too good at saying good-bye, I felt slapped. The walls went right back up."  
  
"How do you think I felt? All I could think of was that I was going to ruin everything for everyone if I did what I wanted to do and run to you. I kept thinking that all the plans had been made and how could I face the Admiral and Harriet."  
  
"What about Brumby? Didn't you think of him?"  
  
"I was grateful to him. He was so committed to me."  
  
"Grateful? You were going to marry someone because you were grateful? Whatever happened to a simple thank you?" Harm quipped.  
  
"And your relationship with Renee? Do you really want to go there?"  
  
"I'd rather not. She really tried. I guess I see your point about gratitude. I'm thankful that fate or whatever intervened, although why I had to practically freeze to death in the Atlantic is beyond me."  
  
"It took ice water to get your attention. I hope we're never this stubborn and thick-headed again." Mac leans over to Harm and kisses him gently.  
  
"How much longer until we're on the ground? I've had enough of these start/stop deals for one day."  
  
"We've got another three hours until we land. Then we go through Customs and we have a couple of hour drive. That puts us into tomorrow."  
  
"How private do you think this compartment is?"  
  
"Harm!"  
  
Monday, 30 March 2003  
  
Russian Embassy Embassy Row Washington, DC  
  
Alex Volkanov exits the elevator and walks to the reception desk. As the receptionist approaches him, he smiles.  
  
"Captain Volkanov to see General Federov. I have an appointment."  
  
"He's expecting you."  
  
Alex follows the receptionist down the hall into a spacious corner office. Alex salutes his superior and stands at attention until the receptionist leaves. As the door closes the two men embrace each other.  
  
"Uncle Yuri."  
  
"Alexi, what can I do for you?"  
  
"I want an assignment here."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I want to be in the States. Either in Washington or in New York."  
  
"As I asked before, 'Why?'"  
  
"I feel that I can serve Mother Russia here?"  
  
"Third time, 'Why?'"  
  
"I met a girl."  
  
"An American?"  
  
"Sort of. She's got dual citizenship, American and Italian. Her father is the U.S. Navy JAG."  
  
"Her mother?"  
  
"I don't really know. She's Italian, remarried to an Italian. Francesca was raised in Naples. Her parents divorced when she was very young, before school age."  
  
"Are you serious with this girl?"  
  
"I don't know. I need time to see her and date her so that I can know."  
  
"Does she live in New York?"  
  
"She's a fashion journalist. She's based out of New York but she covers Milan and Paris too. She travels most of the time."  
  
"Would New York be preferable to Washington?"  
  
"Yes, but Washington offers more flexibility."  
  
"Can you bring her to dinner?"  
  
"When?"  
  
"Tonight. We have an embassy dinner for the French ambassador. We have extra room. None of the Americans want to come, for obvious reasons."  
  
"I can try. I'll need to track her down and beg."  
  
"I'd like to meet her. Then I'll see what I can arrange."  
  
"You are too good to me, Uncle."  
  
"You have always been my favorite, Alex. You could melt the heart of a true Communist."  
  
"Not some of them, Uncle."  
  
"I have an appointment waiting. Call me by noon with an answer about tonight."  
  
"Uncle? One more favor?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"My friend and his bride were killed Saturday night in the explosion at the Senator's Hotel. Can you do some checking? I'd like to know who was behind it."  
  
"You were friends with people from Nebraska?"  
  
"No, Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie."  
  
"They aren't dead."  
  
"What? Where are they?"  
  
"We're checking on that. The CIA has informed a few people with security clearance that the Rabbs have been kidnapped."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"We spy on each other."  
  
"Were we behind the explosion?"  
  
"No. We're as interested as they are in who was though."  
  
"I normally wouldn't ask, but if you find out anything, could you keep me informed? Rabb is a good man, and a good friend."  
  
"If we were after him, I could not tell you. Since we are not, I will keep you informed. Call me later, Alex."  
  
Alex kisses both of his uncle's cheeks and left.  
  
He steels himself to keep from whistling as he walks down the hall, enters the elevator, and presses the button for the lobby. He exits the elevator, strides across the marble floor of the lobby, and pushes open the door to the outside. As he breathes in the cherry-blossom aroma, he begins to whistle.  
  
1500 ZULU JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA  
  
Bud and Sturgis sit in the leather wing chairs in Admiral Chegwidden's office. The Admiral sits at his desk as Webb paces around the room behind him.  
  
"You can't tell Harriet, Bud." Webb explains.  
  
"Sir, Harriet won't tell a soul. What's wrong with her knowing that the Rabbs have been kidnapped?"  
  
Admiral Chegwidden clears his throat. "Webb, I trust Harriet implicitly. Rabb's mother knows. Why can't we just think of Harriet as Mac's sister or something?"  
  
Webb sighs. "Okay. Bud, you can tell Harriet. That's it."  
  
Admiral Chegwidden smiles and speaks, "If you two have no further questions, you are dismissed."  
  
Sturgis and Bud leave together and close the door. Webb looks at the Admiral and shakes his head.  
  
"Have they called you Webb?"  
  
"Yes, they called last night from Scotland. Rabb had to gloat that he found a bug that our people didn't. He's absolutely paranoid."  
  
"He wants some privacy, Webb. You would too in his situation, if you ever find yourself in his situation."  
  
"Well, the marriage bug that has bit the two of you can just leave me alone for awhile."  
  
"You did catch the garter."  
  
"I did no such thing. It landed on me."  
  
"That's even worse, Webb. Makes it sound as if you have no control."  
  
"AJ, someone's messing with me from within the company, I'm convinced of it. I can't let anyone get close to me or I'll risk getting her killed."  
  
"Interesting choice of words. You're risking two of my senior officers."  
  
"They'll be okay. They are serving their country, not loving me." "Does someone love you, Clayton? Besides your mother?"  
  
Webb looks up at the Admiral allowing his tortured soul to be exposed through his eyes. The Admiral nods his head and says nothing more.  
  
The buzzer on the Admiral's desk sounds and Tiner speaks, "Admiral, Capt Volkonov is here and wants to see you."  
  
Webb smiles at the Admiral. "Father of the bride moment?"  
  
"Better not be. Tiner, send him in."  
  
Alex enters the office and stands at attention before the Admiral.  
  
"Alex, you haven't transferred into my command without my consent, have you?"  
  
"No, sir. I just am unsure of how to approach you with what I need to know."  
  
"Spit it out."  
  
"I need to speak to Francesca. Do you know where she is?"  
  
"She'll be here in a short time. We're having lunch before she flies back to New York. Why?"  
  
"I want to ask her to dinner at my embassy tonight. I, uh, need a date."  
  
"Washington is full of women, Alex."  
  
"I only have eyes for one, sir."  
  
Webb sits down in a chair, clearly enjoying this exchange.  
  
"May I ask, Captain, just what are your intentions toward my daughter?"  
  
"Sir, I have only honorable intentions. I am trying to be assigned to the States so that I can spend time with Francesca and see what may develop between us."  
  
"I see. At what point do you plan to meet her mother?"  
  
"As soon as Francesca suggests it. Should I meet her sooner, sir?"  
  
"No. She's going to hate you."  
  
"But I am an honorable man!"  
  
"You are also a military officer. I paved the way for you. Marcella is going to despise you because you will remind her of me. Therefore, because you are going to have your hands more than full with an Italian mama with a temper, I will not stand in the way of your pursuit of my daughter, unless or until you hurt her. Then you will deal with a papa` with a temper. Are we clear, Captain?"  
  
"Does that mean I can join you for lunch?"  
  
"Are you buying?"  
  
"I would be honored to buy, sir."  
  
"There's something likable about you, Alex."  
  
"Sir and Clayton, you cannot ask me how I know what I am about to tell you, but Harm is not dead."  
  
Webb speaks with interest, "Really? Where is he then?"  
  
"He has been kidnapped, Mr. Webb. I made inquiries of people I.trust."  
  
"Thank you for your concern, Alex. You can wait outside with Lt. Roberts while Webb and I finish our business. When Francesca gets here, I'll let you buy me lunch while I leer at you."  
  
"Leer at me? I thought you liked me."  
  
"I can't let her see that. She'll dump you if she thinks I'm pushing this. Now, you need to leave."  
  
Admiral Chegwidden smiles as he leaves the room.  
  
"Webb, what do you think?"  
  
"I think if he ever wants to come over, I'd like to have him. I also think he's smitten with your daughter. I'm wondering who his contact is in Russian Intel community. Finally, I'm wondering who within our Intel community leaked it to the Russians."  
  
Chegwidden shivers.  
  
"What?" Webb asks.  
  
"I just had the thought of Russian grandchildren!"  
  
Alex leaves the Admiral's office and heads for Bud's office as the elevator opens and Francesca Perretti exits. Alex ignores Bud's door and walks straight toward the elevator.  
  
"Hello, pretty lady."  
  
"Alex! What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm having lunch with you and your father."  
  
"How did you manage that?"  
  
"I said I'd buy."  
  
Francesca laughs.  
  
"I need to ask you for a huge favor."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Can you be my date for a formal dinner at my embassy tonight?"  
  
"Alex, I can't. My flight leaves at 5:00."  
  
"Change it to tomorrow, please."  
  
"I have meetings at 9:00 tomorrow."  
  
"Cancel the flight and I'll drive you tonight. We can be on the road by 2300 at the latest. You can sleep on the way to your apartment."  
  
"When will you sleep?"  
  
"Tomorrow, when my day is dark."  
  
"Is that a Russian expression?"  
  
"No, you are the only light that I need. When you are gone, my world is dark. Then I can sleep."  
  
"You are a charmer, Alex."  
  
Alex pulls her into an empty conference room and closes the door.  
  
"Alex, what are we doing?"  
  
"Just this." Alex takes Francesca into his arms and kisses her, tentatively at first, then with more passion.  
  
Alex steps back as Francesca keep leaning in. He catches her as she stumbles. "Francesca, we do have a lunch date, a well-chaperoned lunch date. I think we should save the heavy breathing for later, don't you?'  
  
"Italians are passionate, Alex."  
  
"So I'm learning."  
  
"One more?"  
  
"Russians aim to please."  
  
Alex takes her hands into his and intertwines his fingers with hers. He pulls her to him and gently kisses her as the door to the conference room opens.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't realize this room was occupied." Harriet embarrassedly says.  
  
"Who's in here?" Bud asks. "Oh, sorry! We just wanted a place to talk."  
  
"Uh, we did too." Alex answered quickly. "We're having lunch with the Admiral and we needed to talk."  
  
"Alex, you are Russian, right?"  
  
Alex nods.  
  
"And Francesca is Italian?"  
  
Alex and Francesca both nod.  
  
"So why were you speaking French?" Bud laughs as Alex and Francesca hurry out of the room.  
  
Harriet backhands Bud's arm. Bud responds by pushing the door closed and gently pushing his pretty blond wife against it. He responds by doing a little United Nations negotiating of his own.  
  
Harriet gasps, "Bud, at the office?"  
  
"Something weird is in the air, Harriet. First Harm and Mac, then the Admiral and Meredith, now Alex and Francesca."  
  
"In the spring, a man's thoughts turn to love. Don't mention Harm and Mac though, I still can't believe it."  
  
"That's why I pulled you in here. They aren't dead. At least not yet."  
  
"Not yet, Bud? Not yet? What do you mean?"  
  
"They've been kidnapped. Webb and the Admiral said I could tell you, but you can't tell anyone."  
  
"Oh, honey, that means they still have a chance. Who's going after them? Webb?"  
  
"I wasn't cleared for that part. I just wanted you to stop grieving."  
  
"You are a considerate, wonderful man, Bud Roberts."  
  
This time it was Harriet backing Bud up against the door. 


	10. Chapter 10 Mission Mergers

Chapter 10  
  
A/N Thanks to all of you who wrote, even privately, to give me specifics. Specifics in reviews help so much more than "Please write more." This is a long chapter, but I had to update all the subplots!  
  
30 MARCH 2003  
  
0510 ZULU  
  
NJ Turnpike  
  
Francesca Peretti sighs as she watches Alex swig McDonald's coffee from a Styrofoam cup. "Are you getting too tired to drive?" she purrs.  
  
"No. I'm fine. You need to sleep though. You have a meeting in nine hours. I have tomorrow to sleep." Alex replies as he pats her left hand as it rests on the center console. Glancing at her to gauge her reaction, he leaves his hand covering hers.  
  
Francesca stares out the window as they pass the rolling hills of the central Jersey suburbs. She likes the warmth of his hand as it covers hers. The action suggests a protectiveness that she is unaccustomed to and one which she's beginning to like. She reflects on the embassy dinner of the earlier evening. She thinks of the strange balance of Alex's formality combined with his obvious warmth and devotion. She wonders how much of it is Russian courting mode and how much of it is Alex. She finds herself hoping that it is the latter. She's only known him for four days and yet it seems like so many more. She likes his easy manner with her. He's attentive without being overbearing. Tonight when he held her in his arms to dance, he was so proper and formal; when their eyes would meet while dancing, his suggested intrigue and danger. She thinks of what it will be like to peel back the layers and peer into his soul. Slow down, she thinks instinctively, you barely know him - and he's Russian. Who would be more careful of Russians than her father and yet at lunch, Alex's charm disarmed even A.J. She smiled as she thought of her father's parting words whispered in her ear as she left JAG headquarters after lunch, "Careful, sweetheart, he's the real deal." For a father as protective as hers, those words were both teasing and prophetic.  
  
"Is there a reason that you're smiling, Francesca?" Alex questions softly.  
  
"I'm thinking about today and all the things we've done. It's been such a full day!" Francesca reflects.  
  
"Does that mean you consider it a good day?" he asks hopefully.  
  
"It was a day of emotions. I'm worried about Harm and Mac. You made me laugh at lunch with my father. The dinner at the embassy was thrilling, and now you're driving through the night to deliver me to my apartment in New York. I've never crammed so much into a day, Alex."  
  
"Well, that was yesterday. Today we'll do even greater things!" Alex laughs.  
  
"Alex, I want you to stay at my apartment. You can sleep while I'm at work. I'll be back in the early afternoon. Then I will take you to see the city, or, if you're too tired, I can cook dinner for the two of us," she suggests.  
  
"Are you giving me the choice?" He wonders.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I want you to cook," he exhales. Alex stares at the black ribbon of road ahead of him, hoping that he has not betrayed how thrilling the thought of Francesca cooking for him is. As his mind ponders the "will she wear an apron?" question, he forces himself to focus. "Of course, I could take you out, if you're too tired to cook," he offers while his mind screams for the intimacy of dinner at home.  
  
"I'm Italian. Cooking is in our blood. Do you prefer pasta or fish?"  
  
"Both. Whatever. Surprise me." Alex found his voice again. "I'm not very good in the kitchen, but I do love to eat, so I bow to your culinary prowess."  
  
"My mother is an excellent cook. My father still fantasizes about her cooking, I think."  
  
"Does it bother you that they divorced?"  
  
"It happened so long ago that I don't remember them being together. Now that I know them both as adults and I view them through adult eyes, I'm surprised it happened. I don't think my father was able to communicate as well then and my mother needed to know what was going on inside his head. He came back from Vietnam with terrible memories that he kept bottled up inside. I know that they loved each other passionately. She kept a box of things from their life together in the storage room of our villa. I sneaked in there as a teen-ager and read his letters to her and looked at the photos. She caught me and we had a terrible fight. I asked her why she could leave a man who loved her so passionately and settle for my step- father. She slapped me across the face but never answered me."  
  
"Do you have a theory?"  
  
"I think that in a cross-cultural marriage, there are difficulties, communication barriers. Sometimes it's easier to have less passion and more predictability. That's what she got with my step-father, the stereotypical Italian man."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"Handsome, charming, and unfaithful."  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
"He's had affairs for years. She knows it. Italian men don't divorce their wives for their mistresses. They would lose their standing in the church."  
  
"But your mother was divorced."  
  
"But both families had connections. Her first marriage was annulled. I assumed my step-father's name. A.J. Chegwidden's existence was annulled. I always wondered what that made me."  
  
"So you had no contact with him as a child?"  
  
"Ha! You've met him. Do you think he could be "annulled"? He came to see me every year. My mother and I would spend two weeks with him somewhere, usually in Italy, but wherever seemed to be a convenient spot. They were magical times. So many times, I would go to bed and pretend to sleep, only to get up and peek at them. I have so many memories of them sitting across the table from each other, sipping wine, talking. When I was older, they would occasionally leave me and go for long walks. They don't know it, but I saw them holding hands and kissing on more than one occasion. I don't think that they ever got over each other."  
  
"So, do you approve of his relationship with Meredith?"  
  
"My mother has had my step-father for all these years. Who is she to deny my father companionship? We haven't had the family vacations since I was eighteen. How long was he supposed to wait for her? When I was kidnapped, she had the perfect opportunity to reconcile with him, but she didn't. I think he knew then that he couldn't wait for the scraps that she threw him."  
  
"You don't paint a flattering picture of your mother."  
  
"Wait until you meet her. She's a spitfire. She could not control my father; that scared her."  
  
"If your step-father is unfaithful, then she also does not control him, does she?"  
  
"Alex, you assume that it bothers her that my step-father cheats. I think he cheats with her blessing. He provides her with a comfortable lifestyle. He is discreet. She has an escort. She's happy with perfunctory wifely duties and leaves him to get the rest elsewhere. You'll have to watch them in action to see how it plays out."  
  
"Does that mean you plan for me to meet them?"  
  
"It depends how long you stick around."  
  
"Russians have great staying power."  
  
"Communism lasted less than seventy-five years. The Italians have been around since before Christ."  
  
"Give me a chance, Francesca."  
  
"What kind of chance?"  
  
"A chance to love you like you've never been loved." Alex sucks in his breath when he realizes what he has just said.  
  
Francesca ponders his comment and responds by turning her hand palm up and intertwining her fingers in his. She brings the back of his hand to her lips and softly kisses it.  
  
0530 ZULU  
  
Northern Scotland  
  
Harm tosses his suitcase on to the couch in the huge bedroom. He glances at the brocade bedspread on the poster bed and tests the firmness of the mattress with both hands. He glances at his watch and begins to remove it from his wrist, placing it on the bedside table. He hears water running in the adjoining bathroom as Mac walks out wearing a short fuchsia chemise and brushing her teeth.  
  
"Wow!" he moans.  
  
Mac holds up her index finger, walks into the bathroom, and spits. "Wow, what?" she calls.  
  
"I'm thinking about how many toothbrushes or tubes of toothpaste the world would buy if you were an advertisement for either one.  
  
"You don't like the way I brush my teeth?" she teases.  
  
"Sarah, I want to watch you brush your teeth forever. You are so beautiful."  
  
Mac crosses the room and wraps her arms around him, tilts her head back, and looks up at him. "We have a whole week of being alone with no responsibilities. How'd we get so lucky?"  
  
"That's easy. I was so unlucky and stupid for seven years that I built up luck points. We're living on savings." He leans down to kiss her. "Sarah, are you hungry? I was about to ask you if you wanted something to eat or drink when you walked out in that nightgown and took my breath away."  
  
"Really? I took your breath away?"  
  
"Heart stopping."  
  
"So your heart stopped and you couldn't breathe?"  
  
He nods.  
  
"I guess I need to perform CPR."  
  
"Should I lie down for that?"  
  
"Assume the position, flyboy."  
  
She pushes him gently. As he falls back on the bed, he pulls her to him. "Happy honeymoon," he murmurs between her kisses.  
  
0800 ZULU  
  
Mac untangles herself from Harm's sleeping grasp and reaches for her robe. Tying the belt, she shuffles into her scuffs and enters the bathroom. A few minutes later she leaves the bathroom and wanders out of the bedroom, down the hall, and down the stairs. She begins exploring the manor's first floor. She enters a large two story library and begins to scan the shelves. She pauses to look out the window and stares at the water of the North Sea.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts." Harm's voice nuzzles her neck as he wraps his arms around her waist."  
  
"I'm thinking that I have the sea, a room full of books, and you - the perfect honeymoon."  
  
"Are you telling me that you're going to read on our honeymoon?"  
  
"I have to do something while you cook. Why? What do you want to do?"  
  
"I want to walk on those rocks and watch the tide come in. I want to watch the sun come up and watch it set. I want to show you that you are the only woman for me, the only was there ever has been, and the only one there ever will be."  
  
"Get out of here. If something every happened to me, you'd find someone else in a heartbeat."  
  
"Don't say that, Mac. Please don't ever say that. We've had too many close calls with death. Look at me when I tell you this: I am alive when I am with you. You complete me. I"ve never felt this way with any other woman." Harm tenderly kisses her lips and holds her in his arms.  
  
"Harm?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"We got in really late last night. I haven't had much sleep and I need a shower. Most importantly, I need food. Do you think we can find the kitchen and see what they have?"  
  
"I believe the Scots eat lots of oatmeal," Harm grins as he unwraps one arm and begins to leave the window. Mac keeps one arm wrapped around his waist as they walk together to the kitchen, Harm wearing his boxer shorts and Mac wearing a robe and slippers.  
  
"Harm, do you think you should put some clothes on, in case someone comes?"  
  
Harm looks down and says, "I have underwear on."  
  
Mac giggles, "Yes, but what if a deliveryman shows up, or one of Webb's friends?"  
  
"You think it might be a woman?"  
  
"No, well, I don't know, what difference does that make?"  
  
"Mac, I walked around in front of thousands of guys at the Academy wearing nothing but underwear, so I don't really care if some guy shows up. I'm on my honeymoon, with my wife, and, quite frankly, if I want to cook naked, that's none of anyone's business but ours."  
  
"You might burn yourself."  
  
"And you may be in for some after breakfast kitchen maneuvers with the Navy."  
  
"In the kitchen?"  
  
"I intend to christen every room in this house."  
  
"You'd better feed me first."  
  
Harm opens the refrigerator and takes out eggs, cheese, peppers and, tomatoes. "How does an omelet sound?"  
  
"Yummy. Is there any juice?"  
  
Harm peeks in the refrigerator. "This looks like orange juice. See if you can find a coffee maker and make some coffee, okay?"  
  
Mac searches the kitchen and finds a coffee pot. "Do you know how make coffee in this?"  
  
Harm laughs, "I think I remember the days before coffee makers. Fill it with water, and then scoop the coffee into the basket part. Here, let me do it. Mac, are you always going to be a Marine?"  
  
"As opposed to being a Squid?"  
  
"No, you went into the Corps at eighteen. I mean, in a few years, you'll have your twenty years in, and you could retire."  
  
"And so could you."  
  
"You're right. I could. I just was thinking out loud."  
  
"Harm, you, of all people, knew who and what you were marrying. I can't believe you're trying to change me!" Mac rants.  
  
"Whoa! I'm not trying to change you. I was just trying to see when I could find time to send you to some cooking lessons so you can make coffee!" Harm laughs.  
  
Mac pauses and stares at him before she lunges at him and he runs from her. She catches him and grasps him in a wrestling hold when he says, "Mac?"  
  
"Say 'Uncle'"  
  
"Honey?"  
  
"Surrender, flyboy, or I'm going to put you down."  
  
"Darling, your omelet's going to burn." Mac immediately releases her hold and Harm runs back to the stove. "I knew I'd win. I know your one weakness - food."  
  
"Actually, I have two weaknesses."  
  
"And the second is"  
  
"Harmon Rabb, Jr." she smiles.  
  
"Well, you'll never run out of him. You just won the lifetime supply, all the smart alec comments, action, and adventure you can stand."  
  
"I love you, Harm." Mac answers. She turns and sets the table. Returning to the stove, she pats Harm's behind while removing the percolating coffee pot from the burner. She carries it to the table, fills two cups, and carries one to Harm as he flips the omelet. They stand together, sipping coffee, reveling in the nearness of each other. Harm removes the skillet from the stove and expertly slides the omelet from the pan to a platter. He hands to platter to Mac who balances it while carrying a pitcher of orange juice to the table. Harm reaches into the refrigerator, removes a carton of plain yogurt and grabs a banana on the way past the counter. The two settle at the table and look at each other before eating.  
  
"Wow, our first married breakfast." Mac muses.  
  
"Mac, Webb fed us breakfast in the car on Sunday. Yesterday we ate breakfast courtesy of Virgin Airways on the plane. This is our third breakfast."  
  
"But this one is a real breakfast. Those others don't count."  
  
"There's logic in there somewhere, but if you say so, this one counts for real."  
  
"This almost seems sacred. Do you think we should pray or something?"  
  
Harm smiles at his wife, takes her hand in his and bows his head. "God, thank you for this life and for this wife. May I always honor both as gifts from You. Amen."  
  
Harm releases her hand and begins to peel his banana when he notices that Mac is staring at him. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. You're just so wonderful!" she sniffs.  
  
"Mac? Why are you crying?"  
  
"I'm so happy."  
  
"But you're a Marine. Marines don't cry over breakfast. Say, you don't think you have some extra hormones raging or something, do you?"  
  
"Harm, you're ruining the moment, " Mac glares.  
  
"Sarah, I love you, but if you go emotional on me and quit eating, you're not going to have any strength for this afternoon."  
  
"What are we doing this afternoon?"  
  
"Hiking."  
  
"Hiking?"  
  
"I have to get outside, smell the salt air, and look at the sky"  
  
"It looks like rain to me."  
  
"So we'll walk, smell the air, get wet, come back here and make love in front of the fire."  
  
Mac raises her eyebrows and digs into her omelet.  
  
1800 ZULU  
  
CIA Headquarters Washington, D.C.  
  
Office of Clayton Webb  
  
Elizabeth Perkins sits on a leather wing chair as Webb paces about his office with a microphone in his hand.  
  
"For the aforementioned reasons given by Miss Perkins and myself, our current belief is that Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie are being held by a cell sympathetic to the Islamic Jihad. Most sources indicate that they have not left U.S. soil but rather are being held in a remote safe house, probably to be used in a prisoner exchange with us for some individuals being held at Guantonomo Bay. Do you have anything to add, Miss Perkins?"  
  
"No." Elizabeth sits writing on a pad.  
  
"This is Field Agent Clayton Webb's debriefing of March 30, 2003.  
  
He switches the microphone off.  
  
"That about wraps things up for the day, Elizabeth."  
  
"It sure does, Clay. I may be a few minutes late in the morning. I have a dentist's appointment at 7:15. It's the first one of the day, but you never know what will happen." She holds up the pad with the words, "Dinner tonight at 6?"  
  
Clay nods and mouths the words, "At my mother's" and then speaks audibly. "That's fine. You can always work through lunch. By the way, thanks for being willing to be my date for the wedding Saturday. You put on such a good act. You'll make an excellent foreign agent one day, Elizabeth.  
  
"Thanks. I'm just learning from the master, sir." She winks at him as he puckers and blows a kiss to her.  
  
Down the hall, another CIA agent codenamed Raven listens to each word said by Webb. Raven motions to another agent in the room to sit down. Hearing the door of Webb's office close, Raven questions the other agent, "Do you think it was possible that their appearance on Saturday was a ruse?"  
  
"I believed it. He looked at her with such intensity. Commander Rabb was teasing him about it at one point, so I think he believes it to be true."  
  
"But Clayton Webb can be very cloak and dagger. He's been very, shall we say, successful with women, even women agents. He seduces them and then kills them. There's still that comment she made to him on the cell phone when those bumbling Syrians had Rabb before the wedding. I'll tell you what. I want Elizabeth Perkins followed tonight when she leaves work. Have Joe Ford follow Webb as well. Wait, Webb's calling someone. Let's listen in."  
  
The tones of a phone dialing are heard. "Webb Residence."  
  
"Niles, this is Clayton. Is my mother available, please?"  
  
"Sir, she's attending a benefit luncheon for the Art Museum. I don't expect her until after three."  
  
"She did mention that to me. I forgot. Would you please let her know that I will be joining her for dinner this evening?"  
  
"Only you, sir?"  
  
"Dinner for two, Niles. I plan to spend the night and drive back to town in the morning.  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Thank you, Niles."  
  
Webb smiled as he hung up the phone.  
  
Raven clicked the speaker off. "That man has the strangest relationship with his mother."  
  
"They are very close. She used to be an agent, I heard."  
  
"He sees more of her than any other woman."  
  
"Perhaps Webb is gay?"  
  
"If he is, he's an excellent heterosexual impersonator. I've seen him in action."  
  
"Seen? I thought the Company limited its surveillance to listening."  
  
"I've seen and heard. Back to Miss Perkins. See what she does with her free time."  
  
"She gave up her apartment a month ago. She's living with her parents in Fairfax."  
  
"Why would she do that? Follow her. Stay outside that house until tomorrow morning"  
  
"Will do. You'll have my report in the morning. Do you still want Webb watched?"  
  
"Just a drive by in case he leaves."  
  
Clayton Webb snaps his briefcase closed after filling it with four cell phones. He stops at the receptionist's desk and tells her that he'll be at JAG headquarters for the rest of the afternoon. He exits the building, lowers himself into his BMW, nods at the guard at the gate, and aims his car toward Falls Church.  
  
1900 ZULU  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA  
  
Tiner buzzes Admiral A.J. Chegwidden. "Admiral, Mr. Webb is here to see you, sir."  
  
"Send him in, Tiner."  
  
Webb strides into the office and flops into the chair opposite the Admiral.  
  
"Well?"  
  
Webb answers, "Well, what?"  
  
"You interrupted me. You must have something on your mind."  
  
"Oh, the Rabbs are safe in Scotland. They are settled into an old manor house, doing whatever it is that married people do."  
  
"Having never been married, I wouldn't guess that you'd have a clue, Webb."  
  
"Sorry, AJ, I forgot that you're about to take the plunge, again."  
  
"Can't have too much of a good thing, my friend."  
  
"So my mother tells me."  
  
"Did you have something else on your mind? You could have called me to tell me that the Rabbs were safe."  
  
"No, I couldn't. My office is bugged."  
  
"What? By whom?"  
  
"Someone within the Company. That's who's behind this whole kidnapping of Rabb at the paint ball game. I think it's who placed the bomb in their hotel room too."  
  
"Syrians were who kidnapped Rabb."  
  
"Never get your hands dirty if you can get someone else to do it. That was a put up job. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if those two terrorists disappear before they can incriminate anyone."  
  
"Why do you think it's someone within the CIA? Is it a double agent?"  
  
"Possibly. I have it narrowed down to about five people, all agents at my same level."  
  
"Webb, do you think that Miss Perkins is possibly involved?"  
  
Webb laughs at the question, "Why would you think that?"  
  
"Well, she's come on the scene fairly recently and that's when all this trouble started."  
  
"You're off base, Admiral."  
  
"Hear me out. She's very capable and bright. Maybe she's double crossing you."  
  
"Can I be honest with you, Admiral?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
"She's in love with me."  
  
"So maybe she's one of those obsessed women."  
  
"She is obsessed. I return the obsession. I'm in love with her."  
  
"Really? Webb, this is the first I've known you to be involved with a woman."  
  
"I fought against it. My life is so dangerous. How can I involve someone in it? I've tried to stay away from her but I can't. She came to South America two months ago on an assignment. We ended up stranded in some remote village with no electricity for a week. There were no phones. We had to wait for the weekly mail plane to get us out. Missionaries picked us up, so we had to pretend that we were married. We stayed with them and one thing led to another. I was removed from my life and all its responsibilities and was left with nothing except this incredibly beautiful woman who shares my interests. We played chess one afternoon, just to pass the time and I couldn't stop looking at her fingers as she moved the chess pieces."  
  
"Clay, should you be telling me this?"  
  
"I don't know who to talk to. When we got back, I had her move from her apartment back to her parents. She has a better cover. We have to sneak to meet."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Whoever is going after Harm will kill Betsy if he finds out that she's my, my"  
  
"Lover?"  
  
"Lover seems an inadequate term, AJ. I'm going to ask her to quit the Company tonight. I can't keep risking her career and her life."  
  
"What are you offering her in its place?"  
  
"Marriage."  
  
"What? Mr. Marriage Scoffer is proposing marriage?"  
  
"That's what my father did. My mother is still alive, although my father is dead. I want her to live even if I don't. My father married my mother to get her out of the Company."  
  
"Clay, I happen to know that your mother still"  
  
Webb interrupts. "I know. She will still be safer, even if she "helps out" as my mother has done."  
  
"Well, what can I do to help you, Webb?"  
  
"I'll be coming here often, so that I can use the phone, etc. It'll be under the guise that we're comparing notes on Rabb. It'll only be a couple of more days. When I leave on Saturday, I'm taking Betsy with me to Scotland and then on to Iraq. I'm pretty confident of the security there, so I think Betsy will be safe."  
  
"What about your mother? Is she safe?"  
  
Webb laughs. "Let the Company try to go after my mother. She's got more access than the Director. I'm setting a trap for whoever is after me. Could you send someone over to this address tonight to write down some license plate numbers?"  
  
Webb hands the Admiral the address.  
  
"Who's house is this?" the Admiral asks.  
  
"Wayne and Eleanor Perkins, Betsy's parents."  
  
"One person?"  
  
"Actually, it would be better if you staged drive bys with different people. Keep track of the vehicles and who's in them."  
  
"How many people can I involve?"  
  
"Keep it to a small number. I'll come by tomorrow for your report."  
  
"I think I can handle this one for you, Clay. Good luck tonight."  
  
"I'll probably need it."  
  
Admiral Chegwidden yelled for Tiner.  
  
"Get me Gunny, Lt. Roberts, Lt. Sims, Commander Sturgis, and Petty Officer Coates. Then you join us."  
  
Within a few minutes, the Admiral had assembled his team.  
  
"People, we are going on a little fishing expedition in Fairfax tonight. Our part will be a fact finding mission, but it could affect the locating of Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie. Now here's what we're going to do."  
  
2130 ZULU  
  
CIA HEADQUARTERS  
  
"Early quit tonight, Elizabeth?" Shelly, the receptionist asks.  
  
"I was in at 6:30 this morning, and I'm beat. I'm going home, taking a bath, and climbing into bed."  
  
"I'm right behind you, Elizabeth! Only I can't leave until 5," Shelly laughs.  
  
"Good night," Elizabeth calls as she breezes out the door to the parking lot.  
  
Shelly looks up to see Agent John Bell leaving. She sniffs at his exit, thinking that Elizabeth Perkins had just worked a ten hour day, even taking lunch at her desk. Bell had never in his life worked a ten hour day, yet he was leaving early. Inexplicably, Bell was the golden boy of the junior agents. That is the way these office politics work, she thinks, dismissing the odd exit as laziness on the part of a junior agent.  
  
2200 ZULU  
  
Fairfax, Virginia Street outside the Perkins Home  
  
Elizabeth Perkins eases her Saab into the driveway of her home. She gets out, stretches, and reaches into the back seat to retrieve her brief case. She closes the car door and walks toward the house. A red Ford Taurus driven by Agent John Bell, disguised by wearing a gray wig and glasses, passes by and turns at the next intersection. Elizabeth senses the fact that she's been followed, but is unsure of the location of the eyes upon her. Nevertheless, she reasons, Clay warned her of this and she knows what she must do. Muffin, her golden retriever, greets her at the door and she meanders into the kitchen where her mother is preparing dinner.  
  
"Hi, honey, you're home early. Dinner will be ready at six."  
  
"Mom, I won't be here, but we'll be putting our plan into action. Where's Dad?"  
  
"He'll be home in twenty minutes. He just called from his cell."  
  
"What do you have that I can take into the dining room? I need to put on a show."  
  
"The salad is ready."  
  
Elizabeth takes the salad into the dining room and makes no effort to conceal her actions from the windows facing the street. She sits with her profile to the window and deliberately stabs at her salad while reading the newspaper.  
  
Bell watches her from the back seat of the Taurus which is now parked diagonally across the street. He wonders if she's only going to eat a salad. That must be why she's so fit, he thinks, as he reaches for a Krispy Kreme and latte. I may be in for a long night, he reasons, the extra calories will do me good. He watches Perkins' mother sit opposite her daughter bantering about the day's events. A blue Ford pick-up roars into the driveway as the garage door opens and the pickup fills the space next to the blue sedan in the two-car garage. The garage door slowly lowers. An older gentleman whom Bell assumes to be Perkins' father appears in the dining room and he also sits at the table. Perkins rises from the table and Bell watches as the light goes on in the foyer and then in a small window upstairs. Bathroom, he thinks. When no other lights go on, he returns his gaze to the father who now occupies the dining room table reading the newspaper. He watches as another light flashes upstairs and sees Elizabeth Perkins, wrapped in a towel, walk to the window of what must be her bedroom and lower the shade. The light remains on in that room. Bell checks his watch, musing that it's early, not yet 5:30. He wonders if she's going out for the evening when he sees the blind being raised and notices that Elizabeth is dressed in pajamas and a robe. Her hair is piled into a ponytail on the top of her head. She disappears and then reappears in the dining room window. She's holding her briefcase, talking with her father when her mother appears seeming to ask the father for something. Whatever the woman asks, the father seems none too happy to oblige her. He stands and protests, but Perkins seems to calm him. Perkins disappears while her parents banter, and Bell notices that a light in the basement has been turned on. They must have a rec room in the basement or an area where Perkins has an office. The next movement he sees is the father pulling his jacket on and impatiently waiting while his wife scribbles something on a pad. Bell muses that it reminds him of being sent to the grocery store to get some last minute item for supper. He congratulates himself on his deduction skills when he sees the garage door opening and the father getting into his truck. Maybe I'm not so clever, he muses, and maybe Perkins is in the truck with him. He glances at the foundation of the house and sees that the basement light is still on. As the truck backs out of the driveway, he notices that only one head is visible in the cab of the pickup. He weighs his options and decides he must commit to make sure. As the pickup eases out of the driveway and turns to pass him, he gets out of the car and hails the driver.  
  
"Excuse me, sir, but do you know where the Johnsons live?" Bell asks in his disguised gravelly voice.  
  
"Would that be the Dave Johnsons?" Perkins father asks.  
  
"No, the Robert Johnsons. I'm here to visit my niece and seem to have lost my way."  
  
"Sorry, sir. I don't know anybody by that name and I've lived in this neighborhood for thirty years."  
  
"Thank you for your time." Bell steps back toward his car, confident that he has ascertained that Miss Perkins was not in the vehicle. He saw the list on the seat next to Mr. Perkins and silently patted himself on the back. It had been, indeed, a grocery list. Better safe than sorry, he thought, and double checked himself one last time. He punched in the number for the house.  
  
A woman answers, "Hello?"  
  
"Elizabeth Perkins, please." Bell growls.  
  
"This is she."  
  
Click.  
  
Bell thinks that he might as well move the car now that he was certain that Perkins remains in the house and knows that the father will be returning. He drives around the block, pulls off the wig and glasses. When he returns to the Perkins' block, he parks down three houses on the same side of the street. This time, he disguises himself as a woman, albeit an unattractive one. He settles in for what will be a long night.  
  
Click. Elizabeth Perkins punches her cell phone button. "Okay, Dad," she shouts. The pickup screeches to a stop. The hatch above her opens and her father's strong arm reaches for her. She eases herself upright and stands in the tool box spanning the width of the pickup.  
  
"Bits, it's good that you're so little considering the line of work you've chosen," her dad smiles at her.  
  
"Thank, Dad. I'll be home by morning. You know how to reach me if you have more problems."  
  
"I'll be busy trying to find ground cumin for your mother for another half- hour. I'll look for you at breakfast," he states.  
  
"Here's my ride now. I love you, Dad." Elizabeth jumps into the black BMW as Clayton Webb slows down and nods to Wayne Perkins.  
  
"Take care of my girl," Perkins says with a wink. He watches them drive away and thinks about how dangerous this work is. He thinks of the visit Webb paid him as he made his daily five mile walk yesterday. On one hand, he is pleased with how old-fashioned Webb was, actually asking for his permission to marry his almost thirty-year-old daughter. On the other, he thinks that even if Webb can persuade Betsy to quit her job, what kind of life is it for her to have a husband who travels in constant danger. Will he and Eleanor be forced to help their daughter rear her children if she becomes widowed? He thinks of the age-old question of challenging children to become independent, responsible adults and then having to live with the consequences of the choices they make in their independence and responsibility. What's a father to do about it? Well, he thinks, he'd better get to the store to complete his wild-goose chase.  
  
Webb exits the highway into the tony Maryland suburb. Gated driveways leading to gracious red-brick manors whiz past the windows as the couple rides in comfortable silence.  
  
"Betsy, I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but I'm certain that the house is being watched. I'll drop you off at the wooded end of the property and you'll have to go over the fence."  
  
"I figured as much. That's why I'm dressed as I am. Think you can manage to sneak my garment bag into the house?"  
  
"I'm a master of covert operations." Clayton sighed and patted her thigh. "It's just ahead. Make it a quick exit, just in case."  
  
Webb slows the car and Perkins jumps out and scales the six foot rod iron fence. She drops down on the other side and disappears into the trees. Webb watches in his rear-view mirror and continues down the street to the next block. He stops at the control panel, punches in his code, waits for the gate to swing open, speeds into the driveway, and screeches to a halt. He thinks that he might as well put on a show for the benefit of his observer. He glances into the back seat and notices Betsy's tapestry garment bag and realizes that his own is in the trunk. This will take a little doing; he muses, then pushes the trunk release button and steps out of the car. He lifts his garment bag from the trunk and walks toward the front door of the house. He stops, as if remembering something, and returns to the car. Opening the back door, he sets his garment bag flat on the seat, scoots Betsy's on top of it, and folds the two together. He then grabs his briefcase with one hand and the folded garment bags with the other. He then breezes to the front door which is opened by Niles.  
  
"Thank you, Niles," Webb sings.  
  
"We heard you announce your arrival, Mr. Webb," Niles smirks.  
  
"Well, we have to make things look good, don't we?" Webb sighs.  
  
Through the telephoto lens, Agent Joe Ford trains his eye on the living room window and watches Webb embrace his mother. She's a good looking broad considering her age, Ford thinks, as he removes the flask of Chivas Regal from his jacket and takes a swig. What he couldn't possibly know is that the woman Webb was embracing, the slender, petite blond with her hair in a French twist, is none other than Elizabeth Perkins playing the role. Porter Webb is in her basement office decoding a North Korean intelligence intercept for the National Security Agency. So, as Ford spends the night with his flask and his camera, he unknowingly witnesses the forging of Webb's greatest partnership to date.  
  
Over appetizers, Webb looks at the white roses that Betsy fingers.  
  
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may" Webb quotes.  
  
"Clay, not that poem. It's too sad," Elizabeth smiles.  
  
"Why, how does it end?" Webb asks.  
  
"The quote is: 'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying.'"  
  
"That is depressing," Webb agrees.  
  
The two pause as Niles removes their plates and brings the salads.  
  
"Elizabeth, besides the fact that I wanted to see you tonight, I need to discuss some things with you about your career," Webb broaches the subject.  
  
"You mean besides the fact that I'm the best assistant you've ever had?" Betsy teases.  
  
"Unquestionably the best I've ever had, in every area," Webb teases back. "Which is why I'd like to change the nature of our relationship to more of a partnership than a supervisor/assistant relationship," he concludes.  
  
"You mean I'm being promoted?" Betsy asks excitedly.  
  
"In a manner of speaking, yes. Betsy, look at me and please remember that we are being watched. Try to refrain from screaming at me or throwing wine in my face when I say what I'm about to say, " Webb warns.  
  
Elizabeth nods silently.  
  
"Darling, you're a brilliant, accomplished woman. You are a great asset to the Company and have unlimited career potential there. Selfishly, though, I would like you to consider resigning"  
  
Betsy interrupts, "Did you just say 'resigning'?"  
  
Webb nods, "Let me finish. I want you to resign as my assistant in order for you to become my wife."  
  
Betsy looks into Webb's soulful eyes and ponders, "Why can't I be both?"  
  
"Because I'm an old-fashioned, selfish man. Mostly because the danger is too great to you if you are both. Before you react, we're going to go downstairs and talk to my mother. She resigned when she married my father and has worked for the company ever since, from here, with fewer than ten people at the highest levels ever knowing it. You can continue her work under the cover of being my socialite wife. Besides, I can be eliminated at any moment. I want my children to have one relatively safe parent."  
  
"Children, Clay?" Betsy deliberates.  
  
"Oh, a dozen, at least," Webb jokes.  
  
"I'm speechless."  
  
"The ring is on your pillow. I don't want anyone to watch me put it on."  
  
"You're pretty presumptuous to assume that you'll be anywhere near my pillow tonight," Betsy states.  
  
"I'm confident of my ability to persuade you, Betsy." He turns to Niles who arrives with the main course. "Niles, we'll skip dessert after dinner, if you don't mind. We'll just finish the fish and then you can clear the table."  
  
"As you wish, Mr. Webb."  
  
Webb turns to Betsy and toasts her, "To the future Elizabeth Webb, my life partner."  
  
Betsy raises her glass and toasts, "To the woman who loves you, despite your unreasonable demands."  
  
Ford watches the dinner progress and surmises that Webb has one strange relationship with his mother. Talk about Oedipus' complexes, he surmises. This guy's a regular Norman Bates. He makes a mental note to check the records on Neville Webb's death, wondering if he was killed by his adolescent son. Why Bell sends me on these fruitless surveillances, he groans.  
  
2300 ZULU Upper East Side of Manhattan Francesca Perretti's apartment  
  
Wearing faded Levis and a "Go Navy" T-shirt, Alex stands washing dishes at Francesca's sink. Francesca is clearing the table and bringing dishes to him. They joke and laugh easily with each other. Francesca finishes putting the last leftovers into the refrigerator, closes the door, and leans against it. She scrutinizes Alex as he scrubs, rinses, and places the plates into the drainer.  
  
"I have a dishwasher, you know."  
  
"Is he cute?" Alex retorts.  
  
"I mean an appliance that washes dishes."  
  
"I don't mind, Francesca. The least I can do is to clean up after that meal. You are a fantastic cook. I think I will take you to Moscow and let you open a restaurant."  
  
"Will you take me to Russia, Alex?"  
  
Alex finishes rinsing the last of the silverware. He wipes his hands on the dish towel she hands him.  
  
"Would you like me to?"  
  
"I think I would. Right now, I want you to wash my dishes for the rest of my life. I can't believe I just said that."  
  
Alex walks over and places his hands on either side of her as she places her back flat against the refrigerator. Without touching her with his hands, Alex leans down and gently touches her lips with his. When Francesca touches his chest lightly through his shirt, he pulls her to him, deepening his kiss. He steps back from her and searches her eyes with his. He swallows hard and rakes his hand through his hair.  
  
"Francesca, I"  
  
"Alex, I'm sorry. I was too forward."  
  
"No, no, you were fine. Listen to me. The general that you met at the embassy dinner, Federov, is my uncle. I have requested a transfer to the United States, to either Washington or to our consulate in New York. I should have my answer from him in a few days."  
  
"You are trying to stay here?"  
  
"Francesca, I want time to explore this relationship with you. I don't want to have a quick affair with you. I want to move slowly. I don't know if I can move slowly when you kiss me like that."  
  
"So you liked it."  
  
"Francesca, I loved it. But, we're going to slow down. Now, you and I are going to watch American television or play chess or do something to get out of this kitchen."  
  
"Alex, where are you going to sleep tonight?"  
  
"On the couch. Let's not rush things, Francesca"  
  
"My head tells me you are right."  
  
"And your heart, what does it say?"  
  
"My heart's still recovering from that kiss."  
  
Alex lifts her chin with one hand and kisses her again, grinning. "Francesca, you need to take off that apron."  
  
"Why? Don't you like a woman in an apron?"  
  
"I'm going to dream of you in that apron." Alex kisses her forehead as she unties the apron strings. Francesca hands the apron on the hook and leads Alex to the coffee table and the chess set.  
  
"Black or white?" Francesca purrs.  
  
"Definitely black."  
  
2350 ZULU  
  
Fairfax, Virginia  
  
Special Agent Bell dozes in his car as a slow moving car driven by Sturgis Turner dressed in street clothes passes by. Sturgis' passenger, Jennifer Coates carefully records the make and model as well as license plate number. They continue down the block, past the Perkins' home and turn up the side street. Sturgis stops the car, and Jennifer gets out joining Tiner and Gunny on foot. Gunny tells Sturgis to meet them at a prearranged convenience store location several blocks away. Gunny and Tiner synchronize their watches and Gunny and Coates begin walking arm in arm around the block. Tiner lingers for ten minutes and then begins walking in the opposite direction around the same block. As he turns the corner, Tiner sees Coates and Gunny rounding their corner. Tiner realizes that the car is parked closer to Coates and Gunny so he speeds his pace so as to encounter them as close to the car as possible. He notices that Gunny and Coates have also calculated the need to adjust their speed and have stopped to kiss under a street light.  
  
"This isn't the Academy Awards, Gunny," he mutters to himself, expressing his displeasure with watching his friend kiss Coates. He notices that Coates doesn't seem to be minding the charade too much either. By the time they meet, Tiner does not have to work in order to feign displeasure with Gunny.  
  
"Hey, what are you doing with my girl?" Tiner yells.  
  
"I don't see ownership papers on her," responds Gunny.  
  
As Tiner grabs for Jen's hand, Gunny steps between the two.  
  
"Stop it, guys," pleads Jennifer as she watches them square off with fists raised. "Oh dear, can somebody help me?"  
  
Jennifer spots the woman sitting in the car. She knocks on the window, "Ma'am, can you help me, please?" she whines.  
  
Bell just stares at her, trying to think of how to best handle the situation when he hears the smack of Tiner's fist on Gunny's jaw. Gunny spins backward, but charges back at Tiner like a suburban mom at Macy's the day after Thanksgiving. Gunny punches Tiner in the stomach and Jennifer lets out a scream. Suddenly, an orange VW bus circa 1970 screeches to a halt on the street side of the Taurus and out jumps AJ Chegwidden wearing a blond wig and Meredith dressed as a flower child. Tiner looks up in shock at their disguises just in time to catch Gunny's fist on his jaw. AJ grabs Gunny and knocks him to the ground and pins both arms behind his back. Meredith, knowing that nobody can resist her, pounds on the driver's window until Bell lowers it halfway down.  
  
"Ma'am, do you have a cell phone so that we can call 911?" Meredith pants.  
  
"Uh, no," responds Bell in a falsetto voice. Meredith feigns being a dizzy blonde as she studies all the features of the obviously disguised woman. She notices that while he's wearing a dress and false bust, he never bothered to remove his wing-tip shoes. She also checks his fingers for rings. She notices that the left ring finger is bare, but that the right sports a University of Virginia class ring.  
  
"Barry, darling, why don't we just take this nice couple wherever they want to go? You can leave Mike Tyson here."  
  
"Okay, Suzy Q. Young lady, you choose which one of these goons you want to go with you."  
  
Coates pauses and looks between Tiner and Gunny. Finally, she says, "Steve, I guess we need to talk so you'd better come with me." Tiner begins to walk toward the van. For effect, Jen walks over to Gunny as he struggles to his knees as AJ keeps a firm grasp on both forearms. She leans over to kiss him sweetly on the lips.  
  
"Bye, Tony," she smiles.  
  
Meredith purposely moves into Bell's line of vision so that he cannot easily identify the members of JAG. After Coates and AJ get into the van, Meredith jumps into the passenger seat and they leave. Gunny stuffs his hands into his pockets and saunters down the block for the half mile walk until he meets Turner.  
  
Bell smiles that he never had to leave the car and shakes his head at what a strange situation just happened. Then he reclines his seat and begins to doze.  
  
Meanwhile, Bud and Harriet with AJ strapped into a car seat, cruise the streets of Webb's suburban neighborhood in their rented Mercedes SUV. When they are about a quarter mile from the entrance to Webb's family estate, they notice a white cable TV panel truck with one worker standing behind the guard rail peering between the trees. He holds what appears to be a tool of some sort. Bud slows the car and Harriet, guised in a black wig, calls to him, "Are you telling me that the cable is out again?"  
  
"Ma'am, we're experiencing some static on the line. I'm just checking it out."  
  
"Well, you know my favorite TV show is on tonight, the one with that handsome actor who plays the Navy pilot turned lawyer. I'd better be able to see it or your supervisor will hear from me in the morning."  
  
"Oh, no problem, ma'am."  
  
Ford peered into the SUV and noticed the man, bald with a bad comb over, and the little girl in the back seat. The woman was pregnant and sporting the biggest canary diamond he had ever seen. As they drove away, he thought, "She must be some high maintenance dame."  
  
Bud and Harriet continued down the street for several more blocks before they burst into laughter. Bud reached up and peeled off his bald man wig. Harriet held her hand up to the light from the streetlight and asked, "Did you see the way that man looked at my diamond from the paste jewelry counter!'  
  
Bud looked at his wife and said soberly, "Did you really have to dress AJ as a girl, even if he was asleep the whole time? This could have long term effects on his masculinity, Harriet!"  
  
"I'm just protecting him, Bud. As far as that man knows, he saw a pregnant brunette with a bald husband and their little girl."  
  
31 March 2003 0300 ZULU  
  
Ford watches as Webb and his mother turn out the lights on the first floor of the house. He watches the lights of two non-adjoining rooms on the second floor switch on. Mrs. Webb walks to the window and pulls the shade. Within ten minutes, her light is turned out. Webb strips to his boxers without closing the blind. He picks up the telephone on the nightstand and dials a number. He talks animatedly for ten minutes or so and hangs up. He walks over to the window and opens it, pulls the blind, and turns out his light.  
  
Ford makes a mental note to check out who Webb called and assumes that the two have gone to bed and settles into the truck to wait for morning.  
  
Ford has just witnessed Porter Webb retiring for the night. Ford has not witnessed Webb's bedroom door opening and the entrance of Miss Elizabeth Perkins into Clayton Webb's room.  
  
"Hello, darling. I thought you'd never get here." Webb whispers and raises the sheets.  
  
Betsy wiggles next to him and whispers, "I was talking to Mummy."  
  
"And just what did Mummy say?"  
  
"That my career is not over if I quit my job with the Company. In fact, Mummy says that I have a very bright career ahead of me. Big projects."  
  
"So what does Betsy think?"  
  
"Betsy thinks that you've made her an offer she can't refuse."  
  
"And how does Betsy feel?"  
  
"Betsy loves Clayton Webb, impossible to live with or without super spy."  
  
Clay chuckles. He reaches under the pillow on the opposite side of the bed. In the blackness of the room, he asks:  
  
"Elizabeth, will you marry me?"  
  
"Clayton, yes, I will."  
  
Webb slips his arms around her petite body and kisses her lightly on the lips. He unwraps one arm to hand her the ring box. She takes it in both hands and timidly peeks inside the blue box to reveal a three carat canary yellow diamond. She gasps.  
  
"I hope you aren't disappointed, but when I saw the yellow stone, I kept thinking of your blonde silky hair and your alabaster skin. Your beauty is so rare that I thought the stone should match it," Webb explained.  
  
"Clay, how can I explain this stunning ring to people? You're the only one who could possibly afford something so magnificent."  
  
"You don't need to explain. Type your letter of resignation the first thing and email it to the deputy director. I'll come in late and act befuddled. We're leaving in a few days anyway. We can be married in Iraq."  
  
"Clay, I want my parents there."  
  
"Okay, then, we'll get married here on Friday night. Maryland has no waiting period, but we'll need to get licenses tomorrow. Would that work for your parents and sister?"  
  
"Thanks, Clay. I just want my family to be there."  
  
"Well, it'll be small, but it will be legal and binding. Get out of that office as soon as you can tomorrow. Things are going to hit the fan if my plan for tonight worked. Come over here and my mother will be happy to help you get your trousseau together. She'll help you with a wedding gown too, if you want one."  
  
"You know, Clay, she's not the overbearing person I thought she'd be."  
  
"She wants grandchildren, darling, lots of grandchildren. You hold the power."  
  
"Speaking of which, Clay, I just realized that I came, um, unprepared for tonight."  
  
"It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you."  
  
"You mean you think we should just go ahead?"  
  
"What's two days?"  
  
What indeed!  
  
A/N Who knew there could be so much passion? Do you like the pairings? 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
1130 ZULU  
  
31 March 2003  
  
Elizabeth Perkins is at her desk by 6:30 a.m. Her exit from Porter Webb's before five that morning had been accomplished by hiding on the floor of Porter's Mercedes as Porter left for the gym. Betsy had slept little; the surreal nature of the previous night's events had left her too excited to sleep. Webb had crashed after their lovemaking. Perkins stifles a giggle in thinking about how easily she was able to slip out of the bed and the room without waking him. She sits staring at the computer and composes the letter of resignation which she knows she must write. She decides to address it to the Deputy Director of Support Staff and copy Webb rather than vice versa.  
  
'Dear Sir:  
  
My six years of service for the Agency have been among the most challenging and professionally rewarding of my life. The opportunity to serve my country at this point in history is unparalleled. That being said, I must resign my position as Assistant to Deputy Director Webb for personal reasons. These same personal reasons preclude my working out a notice; I realize that my inability to work out a notice seems to belie my appreciation for my opportunities here, but, in time, I am sure that you will agree that my immediate withdrawal from the office environment is the best scenario for all parties.  
  
Should the Agency have any questions regarding open cases that I may have worked on, please do not hesitate to contact me.  
  
Very truly yours,  
  
Elizabeth Perkins Assistant to the Deputy Director of Southwest Asia Operations  
  
cc: Clayton Webb, Deputy Director of Southwest Asia Operations'  
  
Elizabeth prints two copies, signs them, places one copy on Webb's desk in his "in" basket, and places the other in the inner office mail slot to the DDSS. She then unplugs the tower of her computer, detaches the monitor, speakers, and printer, and lugs the tower into Webb's office and places it into his safe. She locks the safe and pockets Clay's keys. She grabs what few personal items she keeps in one drawer and stuffs these into her purse. She leaves the office at 6:55 a.m., nodding to the night watchman.  
  
"Miss Perkins, I thought you came in early to work," he ponders.  
  
"Oh, Eddie, I have a dentist appointment at 7:15 and needed to finish a letter before Mr. Webb came in," Elizabeth answers.  
  
"That Webb is a slave-driver isn't he?" comments Eddie.  
  
"You have no idea, Eddie. You should have seen how he kept me up last night!" Elizabeth laughed, giddy with the fact that her days of hiding the relationship were almost over.  
  
She runs to her car, drives to the dentist's office for her cleaning, and is back at her parent's home by 8:30 a.m. She and her parents sit talking quietly at their dining room table about the upcoming events of the next few days.  
  
"Betsy, can't we have longer to plan a wedding? What about our friends and relatives?" complains Eleanor.  
  
Wayne comforts his wife, "El, we've known for years that our girl has chosen a dangerous line of work. I'm afraid we'll have to be thankful that we can be there and so can Caroline. She could have just waited and been married in Basra or Baghdad."  
  
"Wayne, who would have married them there? A Muslim cleric?" Eleanor holds her head in her hands. "Betsy, are you really sure you want to marry this man? Your head isn't turned because of the danger, the fact that he's your boss, and the fact that his family is filthy rich, are you?"  
  
"Eleanor! I told you that this Clay is a decent man. He sought me out to ask my permission to marry Betsy. He laid it all out on the line to me. He'll give his life to protect her, I'm sure of that."  
  
"Mom, I love Clay. You will too once you get to know him." Betsy reassures her mother.  
  
"Oh great, my son-in-law the spook!" Eleanor grimaces. "Betsy, I'm not saying that it's not beautiful, but don't you think that ring is a little, well, ostentatious?"  
  
"No, Mom, I think it shows that a forty-two year old man from a wealthy family chose an engagement ring. He wanted something unique and he was prepared to spend plenty of money on it. Let me just say this: if I hadn't resigned my job this morning, it wouldn't take too much brain power around the break room to figure out who, in my acquaintance, could possibly afford this ring. That's probably why Clay insisted that I resign. Mom, we're due at Porter Webb's this morning at eleven. Do you think you can do this with me?"  
  
"I won't shame you, Elizabeth, I've just been trying to get used to the idea here." 1200 ZULU Scotland  
  
Harmon Rabb, Jr. lies on the leather sofa in the library with his back propped against a seated Sarah Rabb. Both Rabbs are engrossed in books and absentmindedly feed themselves and each other from a bowl of grapes on the sofa table behind them. Mac reaches the end of a chapter, marks her place, and closes her book. She lightly traces her index finger down Harm's neck to his chest and places her palm there.  
  
"Mmmm, I thought you wanted to read for awhile," Harm moans.  
  
"I'm getting hungry."  
  
"You want me to clean those strawberries?" Harm suggests.  
  
"Harm, fruit is great, but it does not fill me up. I need meat." Mac demands.  
  
"Well, you insisted that I find something to read and I did. These Churchill military history books are fascinating. I thought we could just keep reading and snacking since it's so cold and rainy outside. If you're hungry though, I'll go fix you something to eat."  
  
"Harm, you don't have to keep cooking for me like a little haus frau," teased Mac.  
  
"Even though that's what I am?" Harm shot back.  
  
"I'd just like to go to town and get some fish and chips."  
  
"That does sound good. I'd like a good pint of ale to wash it down," Harm smacks his lips. "I did see a motorcycle in the garage. Care to take a ride?"  
  
"Can I drive?"  
  
"Absolutely not. I'm pretty open-minded about things, Mac, but I will not be seen riding behind a woman on a motorcycle. It's just not manly."  
  
"Would you fly RIO for a woman pilot?"  
  
"Only if she outranked me."  
  
"I do."  
  
"By two months, Mac. I'm going to make that up and more the first time you take a maternity leave. By the time you take the next five maternity leaves, I'll be a captain before you're a full bird."  
  
"Keep repeating that, Harm, eventually you'll believe it. You'll have been in trouble with the Admiral at least a dozen times before then."  
  
"Sarah?"  
  
"Yes, Harm?"  
  
"Do you think we've been successful yet? I mean in the 'continuing the Rabb family name' department."  
  
"Harm, I don't know. If we haven't been, it certainly won't be from lack of trying. I'm not going to obsess about it like you are though."  
  
"Obsess? Do you think I obsess? I think I'm 'goal-oriented'"  
  
"I think you're nuts. I'm finding a slicker and we're going to get some food."  
  
"Do you think we should disguise ourselves? Webb might get mad if he finds out we went to town."  
  
"We need a few groceries anyway. There's no chocolate in this house. Do you think they have M&M's in Scotland?"  
  
"I can't believe you, Mac. Junk food? Is that all you think about?"  
  
"You're right, Harm. Out of respect for you and your strong conviction about health food, I'm going to modify my snacking habits."  
  
"Glad to see your coming around, Mac."  
  
"Yep, I'm replacing plain M&M's with peanut M&M's." Mac calls over her shoulder as she races out the door. Harm grabs his jacket and gives chase.  
  
1200 ZULU  
  
JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA  
  
Clayton Webb leans over the shoulder of Meredith Cavanaugh as she looks through a stack of pictures. She separates two from the pile and scans them more thoroughly. "I believe that the man I saw is this one, pointing at a photo. It's difficult to say since he was wearing a wig. It's too bad that you don't have pictures of their hands; I studied his hands rather closely."  
  
"Hands?" Webb asks in surprise.  
  
"Oh, I've always thought that you could tell a great deal by looking at a man's hands."  
  
Behind her, AJ Chegwidden rolls his eyes.  
  
"AJ's hands are so strong and firm, indicating that"  
  
"Indicating that we don't have all day, Meredith," AJ cuts her off.  
  
Meredith continues undeterred, "As I was saying, Commander Rabb's fingernails are always expertly trimmed, never a hanging cuticle. And you, Mr. Webb, I've noticed that you get a manicure."  
  
"Er, well, sometimes." Webb responds as the Admiral folds his arms over his chest.  
  
Admiral Chegwidden suggests, "Let's get Gunny, Tiner, and Coates in here to see if they can identify the man."  
  
"AJ, please, I have not finished yet with my hands theory. This man had hairy knuckles and bit his nails."  
  
"So that makes him, what Meredith? A high strung Neanderthal?  
  
"Do they admit them to the University of Virginia?"  
  
"I don't know, what does that have to do with ANYTHING we're doing here?"  
  
"Oh, because that's where his class ring was from, UVA."  
  
"What? Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Webb squeals.  
  
"You didn't ask." Meredith spits.  
  
Excitement creeps into Webb's voice, "Well, I know who that one was, that idiot John Bell. He's a UVA grad and that's the picture you chose, Meredith. Good work. Thank you."  
  
"I'm happy to help my country."  
  
"Meredith, perhaps Webb could get you a job with the CIA's phalanges corps. You could specialize in digital work." AJ and Webb share a laugh as Meredith ignores them.  
  
Webb stops laughing long enough to ask AJ to send for Bud and Harriet. Meredith stands and says, "I have a nine-thirty Tragedies class. I'll see you for dinner," she brushes AJ's lips with a kiss and leaves as Bud and Harriet enter. They exchange greetings and stand before the Admiral.  
  
"Webb has some pictures for you to look at, to see if you can identify the man who was spying on his mother's house last night," the Admiral blurts.  
  
"Harriet got a better look than I, sir," Bud comments.  
  
"Let me see the pictures, Mr. Webb," Harriet smiles.  
  
"Harriet, I think you really ought to call me something other than Mr. Webb, Clay or Webb, or something, "  
  
"Oh, I'll have to think about that, Mr. Webb," Harriet states.  
  
"It's just that I'd like you and Bud to come to my mother's house on Friday night for dinner, and Mr. Webb seems a little formal for a wedding guest to call the groom," Webb mentions.  
  
"Wedding? Another wedding? Who this time? You, Mr. Webb?" Harriet begins dancing around the room.  
  
"Whom are you marrying, sir?" asks a perplexed Bud.  
  
"I'll bet it was that stunning blonde that you brought to Harm and Mac's wedding, isn't it? I saw the way you looked at her when you were dancing," taunted Harriet.  
  
"Her name is Elizabeth Perkins, and, yes, she's the bride. You'll have to keep it quiet though until next week. Just act like you're a dinner guest on Friday night. You and Meredith too, AJ. Mention it to Sturgis, but tell him to ask Bobbi in person, not on the phone. Capital Hill can keep no secrets." Webb lectures.  
  
"Bud, can I get a new dress? Oh, we'll discuss that later. Let me see the pictures." Harriet begins to flip through the photos. "This one," she declares.  
  
"Are you sure?" asks Webb.  
  
"Positive. Is he a drinker?"  
  
"Can be. He's also supposed to be one of my most trusted underlings. Why did you ask about being a drinker?" Webb mutters.  
  
"His breath smelled like booze and I thought I saw the outline of a flask underneath his coveralls. Who is he?"  
  
"Joe Ford. I'll have to tell Mother we'll be having one less for dinner on Friday," Webb muses.  
  
Admiral Chegwidden rises from behind his desk and says, "Thank you Lt. Roberts and Lt. Sims. That will be all,"  
  
"Yes, sir," they snap in unison, spin in an 'about face', and leave the office.  
  
"So Webb, I take it that your mission was a success last night based on your invitation for Friday night," the Admiral inquires.  
  
Webb paces for a few minutes before he answers, "It was touch and go for a few minutes, but then my mother convinced Betsy that giving up her job did not mean that she had to join the Garden Club and take up knitting. She will actually get to see more action with me in Iraq than she would have sitting at a desk in Washington."  
  
"You did say that the Company sent her to South America," AJ notes.  
  
"They did. It was courier work; any number of people could have done it. I think she missed me," Clay confides.  
  
"You certainly don't lack confidence, Webb," Chegwidden chuckles.  
  
Webb's face takes on a guileless look, "I do think she missed me, I mean working for me. She was assigned to Carly Marsich, another Deputy Director. Carly can be pretty rough on other women. She has a bit of a chip on her shoulder and doesn't mind pounding others with it. What happened once she got to South America surprised Betsy as much as it did me. "  
  
"How did you get her back working for you if she had been assigned to someone else?" AJ wonders.  
  
"Well, once I spent my time in Purgatory and cleaned up some nasty drug operations down there, the Director decided that he was wasting my talent chasing drug lords, so I was brought back to Washington. Arrogant chap that I am, I immediately began making demands, and Betsy was one of my demands. Carly was not happy that I got what I wanted.  
  
"Were there repercussions?"  
  
"None that I couldn't handle. Carly is one of those people who has advanced as far as her talents take her but hasn't realized it yet. She's also very fond of me, so I just used my charm and charisma to get Betsy back."  
  
"Might she be behind your recent trouble at the agency?"  
  
"Carly? Absolutely not. At one time, she had a thing for me, but we've forged a friendship instead. She realizes the kind of wife I want and knows that she's not it. I really trust her, AJ."  
  
"Have you gone to her for help in this matter?"  
  
"No, but not because I don't trust her. I just don't know who's reading her emails, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Well, Webb, I have a videoconferencing call with the NAVCOM in a half- hour, so if you'll excuse me."  
  
"I was just leaving, Admiral."  
  
1400 ZULU  
  
Scotland  
  
Harm and Mac are sitting on the floor of the library facing a roaring fire. The telephone on the table begins to ring. They exchange looks as if to ask which one should answer the call.  
  
"Well?" asks Mac.  
  
"Why do I need to answer? Webb probably found out that we went to town! Hello?" Harm answers.  
  
"Why Clayton, we were just speaking of you," Rabb rolls his eyes as Mac stifles a giggle.  
  
"I see. When did all this happen? Well, good for you. Well, I've found it to be a profitable situation in my vast experience."  
  
Mac is perplexed. Harm covers the phone and whispers, "Webb is getting married."  
  
Mac's jaw drops.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry we'll miss it. Kiss the bride for me. I'll do that, Clay. Okay. Webb, c'mon, we just wanted to have some food and get out of the house for awhile. All we saw were Scottish fisherman. We needed to get milk anyway. Lighten up, Webb. Okay, we'll see you and Betsy on Saturday then. When do we leave? Really? I could cook, if you wanted to stay with us here at the Honeymoon Hotel."  
  
Mac makes another face.  
  
"Okay, then. Good luck on Friday. Give Betsy our best wishes. Bye."  
  
Mac immediately fires questions at Harm, "When is Webb getting married?"  
  
"Friday night."  
  
"And you invited him to spend the night here on Saturday night?"  
  
"Well, I thought it was the hospitable thing to offer. I didn't think he'd accept, but he did, which was really weird. The pilot will need to refuel and not exceed his flying hours, so we're not leaving until Sunday. I thought it'd be nice to cook some dinner. I really assumed that they'd stay in a hotel, but he accepted the dinner invitation and then seemed grateful for the invitation to spend the night. This is totally bizarre. Who would have thought that we would get married only six days before Webb?"  
  
"He did catch the garter. Maybe you inspired him."  
  
"I don't think so, Mac. There's more to this story than he's saying."  
  
"Do you think that the marriage is a ruse?"  
  
"I don't know. I'll bet I know someone who does though, the Admiral."  
  
"You can't call him, Harm. Webb said he could call us, but that we couldn't call out."  
  
"It'd be my luck that he'd find out too. Do you know that he knew we ate in town today? It gives me the creeps to think how closely we're watched."  
  
"I know. Do you think that Iraq will be this bad?"  
  
"I'm afraid it will be worse."  
  
"Do you regret taking this mission, Harm?"  
  
Harm cocks his head and looks at her before answering, "Mac, this mission was the impetus I needed to get my head out of my six and ask you to marry me. I have not regretted one single day since I made that decision. The thought of being stalked hasn't been too much fun and neither was that bump I took on the head. Of course, my wife has been kissing it and making it all better," Harm flashes her his irresistible grin.  
  
"Does it hurt now?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"I'll have to show you," Harm explains.  
  
1800 ZULU Russian Consulate New York  
  
Alex sits in an empty conference room bent over a stack of forms. He finds himself thinking that he could use a cigarette about now, but stifles the urge. He's been six months without a cigarette, now is not the time to blow it. He looks up when the door opens and a man enters.  
  
"Hello Kristoff," Alex states.  
  
Boris Kristoff walks into the room and sits across the table from Alex. "I heard you were here. What is it that you want?"  
  
"I want an assignment that keeps me in the United States, " Alex explains.  
  
"To spy for your American friends?"  
  
"If I were going to spy, I'd be in Russia getting information that they wanted. I asked to be assigned here," Alex states.  
  
"Good answer, Alex. We've seen the girl. You have good taste,"  
  
"You have been following me?"  
  
"It's a throwback from the Cold War days. We follow most of our citizens to make sure they don't defect. Don't take it personally," Boris lectures. "Although your woman is the daughter of the American Naval JAG, she is apolitical. She's more familiar with Italian politics than American."  
  
"Glad to know that the KGB approves" Alex quips.  
  
"We're no longer KGB, we're"  
  
"The same pain in the neck," Alex interrupts. "Can I finish these forms now? The bureaucracy will probably take weeks to process them."  
  
Boris smiles. "Alex, I'm here to tell you that you will be assigned to our embassy in Washington. You will accompany our diplomatic corps whenever they have UN functions, so you will be in New York often. I think you will find the pay increase helpful as well. We don't expect our diplomats to live as paupers when they are in foreign countries."  
  
Alex suppresses a smile. "I look forward to serving Mother Russia."  
  
Boris shakes his hand, "Remember that we are watching you. Falling in love with a girl is one thing. Entertaining offers from the American CIA is quite another." With that, Boris exits the room.  
  
Alex sits down and sighs. He completes the next form with renewed energy.  
  
1 April 2003  
  
Clayton Webb sits in the office of Daniel Simpson, his immediate superior. Webber sits behind his desk facing Webb.  
  
"Look, Clay, I'm really sorry this happened, but I can't let you near Ford or Bell until they've talked to counsel. Furthermore, you are too close and too emotionally involved with this investigation. You need to trust the system to do its job. You've done a great job of uncovering these guys. Let me handle it from here."  
  
"Is that an order?"  
  
"Right now it's a request. If you defy me on this, you'll be getting another assignment to South America or worse."  
  
"What's worse?"  
  
"I could send you to Canada to watch the Border Patrol."  
  
"Point made."  
  
"You need to spend the next few days getting up to speed on Iraq. Your plane leaves on Saturday morning at 6:00 a.m. Do you need anything else for the trip?"  
  
"I'll be taking a passenger with me. We'll need an apartment in Basra, preferably close to where Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie will be living."  
  
"We have a building with two apartments. I thought we'd just keep one for visitors. Who's the passenger you're taking?"  
  
"My wife."  
  
"Clay, you're not married."  
  
"I will be by Saturday morning."  
  
"Who's the girl and when's the wedding?"  
  
"Elizabeth Perkins and the time is classified."  
  
Webber pauses and stares at Webb. "Do you mean to tell me that you've been dating someone who reports to you? Did you have no concept of allegations of sexual harassment? To what potential lawsuits have you possibly exposed the Company, Webb?"  
  
Webb raises his eyes to meet the gaze of his boss. "First of all, I have not been sexually harassing my assistant. Secondly, the entire relationship has been one of relatively short duration. When we realized the intensity of our feelings, Elizabeth resigned so that she no longer works for me."  
  
"Do you realize what Carly Marsich is going to say when she hears this? She was so angry when she lost Perkins to you when you got back from Paraguay. I can't believe this, Webb. All these years you've been with the Company and there's never been a hint of impropriety with you and a woman, and now this."  
  
"Do you want Betsy to sign an affidavit that I never coerced "favors" from her? I am marrying her, Daniel. She's left employment with the Company. End of story. I don't care what Carly or anyone else, for that matter, thinks. Nobody will even know that we're married until Tuesday's society column in the Post breaks unless you decide to tell someone. We'll be in Iraq for six months to a year. That should let things die down around here. If you've said all you need to say, I have work to do."  
  
"Clay, I'm sorry. You have done the right thing. You're getting married, not just continuing an affair. It's not like you two are carrying on in the office. I just have seen too much jealousy of you from among your peers. I guess I was overreacting to what I'm going to have to deal with."  
  
"If you ask me, Daniel, you'd better start your investigation on Ford and Bell with those very same jealous peers of mine. Those two boneheads did not act on their own authority; somebody higher up is pulling their strings. You'd better put your thinking cap on."  
  
"I know. My problem is that I have no idea who to trust. It's been years since I actually ran an investigation - I manage people now."  
  
"Call in somebody from Homeland Security."  
  
"That's an idea. I have a meeting up there with Undersecretary Hutchinson this afternoon. He may have someone he could spring loose until we find the "problem child" in our own home. By the way, am I invited to the wedding?"  
  
"Sorry. It's going to be a very private affair. I think I'm giving everyone here a bye on the event. We've had too many security breaches lately. I will be working from home tomorrow and Friday. You can reach me there."  
  
"Good luck, Clay, on your marriage and in Iraq. I'll keep you posted on our progress here."  
  
Clay leaves Simpson's office, walks out of the building, and jumps into his car. Presentiments of danger oppress his mind. He forces himself to push the nagging premonitions from his mind as he drives to Maryland.  
  
3 APRIL 2003  
  
0500 ZULU  
  
Scotland  
  
"You awake?" Harm's sleepy voice penetrates the darkness of the room as the morning skies begin to lighten.  
  
"Habit, I guess," Sarah Rabb snuggles into her husband's side and places her head on his shoulder and he extends his arm to pull her closer to him.  
  
"Is something on your mind?" he queries.  
  
"I was just thinking that today is our last day alone together," she mentions.  
  
"So, is there anything special that you have in mind?" he suggests.  
  
"Do you think it's normal to never want your honeymoon to end?"  
  
"When you're married to someone as wonderful as you are, it's perfectly normal."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Just making sure that you're really awake," Harm laughs. "I plan to have a honeymoon with you for the next fifty years, Mac."  
  
"You'll be eighty-nine and toothless in fifty years,"  
  
"I'll pin gold wings on my white jammies and take you flying in my wheelchair."  
  
"You'll be an arrogant octogenarian, won't you?"  
  
"Confident, not arrogant. People who can't deliver are arrogant. Aviators that deliver every day are just confident"  
  
"What are eighty-five year old retired Marines?"  
  
"Well, if they happened to be married to retired Naval Aviators turned JAGs, they are VSOB's."  
  
"I can't wait to hear the explanation of that acronym."  
  
"Very Sexy Old Broads."  
  
Mac giggles. "You feel like running this morning? I feel like we haven't gotten much exercise this week."  
  
"Well, that depends on your definition of exercise, but I could go for a light run, say seven miles?"  
  
"That's all?"  
  
"I just want to take it easy on the weaker sex,"  
  
"Why don't we make it an even ten? Winner showers first. Loser makes breakfast."  
  
"You're on, but winner and loser shower together," Harm quips swatting her behind as he follows her out of bed.  
  
1000 ZULU  
  
Porter Webb's Home  
  
A phone rings in a darkened room. "Webb," answers a sleepy voice. An arm reaches its hand out to turn on the lamp on the bedside table and Clayton Webb sits up against the pillow. Elizabeth Perkins pushes her hair from her face and eyes Webb as he sits in stunned silence. Webb sits in perplexed silence until he finally speaks, "No, I'm still here. I'm just processing what you've just said, Daniel." He listens for a few more minutes before speaking in exasperation.  
  
"You told me yesterday to stay out of it, that I was too emotionally involved, to trust you. You said you'd bring in some outsiders from Homeland Security or from the FBI or somewhere. Now you're calling me and telling me that Ford and Bell are both dead. Nobody saw them get shot? You are unbelievable, Daniel. Now I'm going to tell you what's up. You are going to post so much security around this house that it's going to look like an armed fortress. Cancel the Agency pilots for Saturday; get the SecNav on the phone and we'll have the Navy fly us. You have a serious problem within the Company, Daniel. You and the Director need to clean up your department or you're both going to be joining the unemployed lines. I'll call you later. Are you even certain you have a secure phone line? Okay, fine. Yep."  
  
Clayton slams the phone down on to its base.  
  
Betsy arranges her pillows as a backrest against the headboard before asking the inevitable question, "What happened?"  
  
Webb inhales deeply and exhales slowly. He reaches for her with his left arm and pulls her to him. She shifts her weight and rolls, so that her back rests against his torso. He pulls his knees up so that her head rests against them and they speak face to face.  
  
"Webber didn't want me involved with Ford and Bell. They took them into custody yesterday afternoon. Ford was in an interrogation room waiting for his lawyer. When the guard opened the door to let the lawyer in, Ford was slumped over the table. Somebody had put a .45 in the back of his head. The security tapes had been scrambled; nobody saw a thing."  
  
"What happened to Bell?"  
  
"He was being moved from the jail to appear before a federal judge. As they walked him from the van into the courthouse, a sniper shot him in the head. The guards didn't even hear the shot. He just slumped as they were escorting him. They think the shooter used a silencer."  
  
"Sounds as if both were professional jobs."  
  
"Sounds like our own people. I can't trust Agency people in Washington. There's something kooky going on," Webb confides as he absentmindedly kisses Betsy's forehead. "Bets, we're going to have to move your parents and sister here until after the wedding. You need to call them soon."  
  
"Okay. Why did you change our travel plans?"  
  
"I'm calling AJ as soon as I think he's awake. I trust him. I trust the military. I just am not sure that I can trust the intel community."  
  
"Will we be safe in Iraq or is this person going to follow us there too?"  
  
"Americans entering Iraq will be more conspicuous than they are in DC, Betsy."  
  
"I'm starting to feel scared, Clay."  
  
"Don't you think I can protect you?"  
  
"I'm more worried for my family. Who's going to protect my parents?"  
  
"I doubt that they'd be at risk. You are because of your connection to me. Hurting you would hurt me. Hurting your parents would hurt you, which would hurt me, but now we're starting to get fairly far down the line. Do you understand?"  
  
"Why were they after Harm?"  
  
"I've used Harm and Mac on a number of missions over the years. This operative knows that we've become friends. Harm's probably the closest thing to a male friend that I have, except for AJ."  
  
"So is AJ at risk?"  
  
"AJ has kept a much lower profile than Rabb. I bought Rabb's brother's release from a Chechnyan prison. Our connection is known. AJ's role, to the outside observer, is as a reluctant commanding officer. AJ is a hard person to know, especially if you're on the outside. He's fairly close to his people, but except for a few Navy peers and some old Seals, he's a closed book."  
  
"Enough of this cloak and dagger stuff. Let's talk about the wedding."  
  
"I'm sorry that I am denying you the fairy tale wedding, Betsy."  
  
"Fairy tale? What do you mean?"  
  
"Big church wedding. A thousand intimate guests," Webb jokes.  
  
"This is fine, Clay. I always wanted a small wedding. I never dreamed it would be in a mansion with an orchestra, but it's fine with me. You can make up for it when our daughters get married. You can hire the National Cathedral and the Marine band."  
  
"If that's what their mother wants, that's what she'll get. How many daughters do I get?"  
  
"Depends," she teases.  
  
"Upon what?"  
  
"How well you do with diapers, potty training, terrible twos, and tiresome threes," she retorts.  
  
"Elizabeth?"  
  
"Yes, Clayton."  
  
"How do you feel about only children?"  
  
"You tell me. You're an only child."  
  
"I wonder if my father didn't like changing diapers?"  
  
"Clay, I need to leave this room. It's bad luck for a groom to see the bride on the wedding day. Officially, our wedding day is here. I don't want to tempt fate," Elizabeth smiles at Clay.  
  
"Betsy, for crying out loud, we're in the same house. We'll be surrounded by security. Where am I supposed to go so I can't see you? That reminds me, what am I going to do today? I can't go anywhere. This is a mess."  
  
"Go work out in the home gym. Take a swim. Pack your suitcase. Read a book on becoming a good husband. Get a haircut."  
  
"I'm going to my mother's office. I'll see what I can figure out from her computer. She's got top security clearances. As for you, the next time I see you-"  
  
"I'll be on my father's arm. I'll be the one in white."  
  
"I'll be the guy who can't breathe because you are so beautiful," he replies wistfully.  
  
"You'd better breathe. Only one of us has a job now. You're supposed to support me and protect me. Now kiss me and tell me good-bye for a few hours," Elizabeth orders as she shrugs into the robe of her white peignoir.  
  
Clay steps out of bed wearing his black silk boxers. He takes Elizabeth into his arms. His hands glide up her arms, along the sides of her neck, and rest as they cup the sides of her face. "Thank you for loving me. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for teaching me to love," Clay whispers before kissing her. "Go, gather ye rosebuds-"  
  
"Clay, I told you. That's a sad poem. It's about death! Read some Shakespeare while you're looking for things to do today. Your family probably has a first edition in that library,"  
  
"Betsy, if you want to get out of here before noon, you'd better go now," Clay winks.  
  
"Bye, darling," Elizabeth sighs.  
  
1300 ZULU  
  
JAG HEADQUARTERS FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA  
  
AJ Chegwidden sits at his desk with his reading glasses perched on his nose. His intercom buzzes and Tiner's voice crackles, "Admiral, your daughter is on line 4."  
  
"Put her through, Tiner. When I'm finished, please send Lt. Roberts and Cmdr. Sturgis in to see me."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
AJ picks up the phone and barks, "Chegwidden."  
  
"I'll try that again, Francesca. Hello, darling. How's my favorite daughter today?"  
  
He pauses to listen to the voice on the other end of the phone.  
  
"Well, Francesca. I'm surprised, but not terribly so. Alex is a determined young man. You are obviously at the center of his determination. I don't think it's a bad thing, necessarily, that he will be in Washington most of his time. Francesca, just how serious is this relationship becoming?"  
  
He begins listening again, frowning. "Francesca, you're a grown woman, you don't have to tell me those details, I certainly didn't expect -"  
  
He slumps down in his chair, pressing the receiver against his ear, but stares up at the ceiling.  
  
"Well, where's he going to live in D.C.? What about Harm's apartment? The Commander and the Colonel will be gone for at least six months. Rabb might be happy to have someone there. If someone else needs it on a temporary basis, Alex can stay with me."  
  
He listens again. "Okay, you do need to tell me when you're taking him to Italy to meet your mother. You can't leave her out of this indefinitely."  
  
Finally, AJ sighs. "Okay. I'll see you in two weeks. Tell Alex to come by on Monday. I'll have a chat with Rabb in the meantime and we'll see if we can't find him a home. I love you too. Bye."  
  
Chegwidden slams the phone down, shakes his head, and chuckles. He glances at his watch to time how long it will take for Roberts and Turner to report to his office. After precisely one minute and fifteen seconds, Tiner knocks and announces.  
  
Roberts and Turner march into the office and snap to attention in front of the Admiral's desk.  
  
"At ease. Take a seat. With regard to attire for this evening," the Admiral begins.  
  
"Dress whites, sir?" Bud offers.  
  
"I think so, Roberts. Commander?"  
  
"Dress whites." Sturgis pronounces.  
  
"And the ladies?" Chegwidden queries.  
  
"Formal, sir. Harriet will not be wearing her dress uniform though."  
  
"I agree. Bud, you're dismissed. Sturgis, can you stay a minute?" Admiral Chegwidden asks.  
  
Bud leaves the office and Sturgis remains seated.  
  
AJ begins to make small talk. "Are you taking Bobbi tonight?"  
  
"I am, sir, but we're going more as friends."  
  
"I thought that there was more there."  
  
"There was, sir, but we weren't seeing the future in the same light."  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
"Meaning that I don't want to retire from the Navy and be her Chief of Staff. Meaning that she doesn't see motherhood in her future, not even as a working mother. I'd like to have a little more traditional home life than what she envisions."  
  
"Oh. I didn't mean to pry. I guess I just wanted your impression of being a bachelor today."  
  
"You're a bachelor, sir."  
  
"Yes, but I'm not really of your generation and I was wondering, well."  
  
"Being candid usually works for me, sir."  
  
"Francesca just called. Alex has requested duty in the States. He's been granted duty as a military legal liaison to their embassy here."  
  
"Are you saying that he wants to be near her, sir?"  
  
"They are dating. However, they are not lovers."  
  
"She told you that, sir?"  
  
"She did. Do you think she's trying to placate her old man?"  
  
"Why would she lie, sir? She's an adult. She didn't need to tell you anything."  
  
"I think she wanted me to reassure her that it was okay."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"No, I was too flustered. Is it okay, Sturgis?"  
  
"He's known her for one week, sir. They met at Harm's rehearsal dinner. My opinion is that Alex is the serious type. He obviously wants to get to know her."  
  
"He's been staying at her apartment, but she says that they aren't, you know. She's coming here in two weeks and plans to stay with me. Is this guy for real or what?"  
  
"Maybe he doesn't want to come to blows with a Navy Seal defending his daughter's honor, sir."  
  
"Sturgis, I'm trying not to, but I can't help but like this guy. I keep telling myself that you can't trust a Russian, but he's different."  
  
"Harm likes him and trusts him, sir."  
  
"Oh, speaking of Harm, do you think he'd be willing for Alex to stay in his apartment while he's gone?"  
  
"The Union Station apartment, sir?"  
  
"That's the one I was thinking of."  
  
"Probably. Tiner is staying at the farm occasionally, I know. Call Harm and ask him."  
  
"He's on his honeymoon."  
  
"It's Harm and Mac, sir. I'd interrupt them without a second thought."  
  
"It is going to be hard to think of them as, well, married, isn't it?"  
  
"In one way. On the other hand, they were ALWAYS at each other's apartments. They ran together. Maybe now they can have time for their other friends."  
  
"It will be interesting, Sturgis. Should Meredith start looking around for someone for you?"  
  
"Sir, with all due respect, I think I can handle it myself."  
  
"I'll give you six months. Then I'll call out the yentas."  
  
"It's a deal, sir."  
  
Sturgis turns and leaves the office.  
  
1600 ZULU  
  
Scotland.  
  
Harm and Mac enter the kitchen wearing dripping wet slickers.  
  
"I can't wait to tell our children how wet our honeymoon was." Harm quips.  
  
Mac turns slowly and looks at him as the telephone begins to ring.  
  
"Saved by the bell. Hello?" Harm answers. "Why Mr. Webb, aren't you busy with the impending nuptials? Okay, I'm all ears."  
  
Harm lifts one leg and rests in on a chair and leans his elbow on his knee. Mac helps him take off his jacket and begins hanging the slickers up to dry. She motions to him that she's going upstairs to change and he nods at her. When she leaves the kitchen, Harm interrupts the conversation. "Webb, I need to tell you something while Mac is out of the room. Bring me a case of peanut M&M's. The candy, Webb. Haven't you ever heard of the candy, M&M's? Get your head out of your Godiva box and send someone to Sam's Club. I want a case of the one pound bags. She's craving them. No, she's not pregnant, but that doesn't mean she won't be. Let me surprise my wife, Clay. Maybe you should ask your wife what she'll be craving in the land of "how many ways can you cook lamb."  
  
Rabb pauses again while Webb does the majority of the talking. Harm occasionally punctuates the conversation with a grunt.  
  
"What did the Admiral want and why didn't he just call me? Do I sound different to you?" Rabb laughs.  
  
"Wow. See what my wedding did for everyone? Romance is in the air. Sure, Alex can use the apartment. You may want to get my computer out of there, just in case some Russian spy visits him and cracks my security code. Hey, Webb, how's the Admiral reacting to Francesca and Alex together? Has he flipped out over the Commie yet?"  
  
Harm begins to pace around the kitchen while talking. "Really? Well Alex is a good man, Webb. Maybe you can get him to come to work for the good guys, the CIA could use a good guy these days."  
  
"Hey, Webb? Good luck tonight, really. We'll see you tomorrow night. Bye."  
  
By this time, Mac has reappeared wearing Marine Corps sweats.  
  
"Don't you look lovely tonight, Sarah," Harm comments.  
  
"I thought I'd cook dinner for my husband, so I put on work clothes," she purrs.  
  
"Really? You're cooking? What should I do?" Harm frowns.  
  
"Go finish "Crusade in Europe". You won't have time to read tomorrow. What time is Webb getting here tomorrow?"  
  
"We should be able to have a late dinner. I'm going to make a fish chowder and pumpernickel rolls. I think we'll just have salad with that. Do you think that's enough?"  
  
"That sounds nice. What are we having for dessert?"  
  
"Angel food cake?"  
  
"Perfect, can you make one without a mix?  
  
"Yes, I can bake an angel food cake."  
  
"Good. Now, you go read. I'll call you when it's time to dress for dinner."  
  
"You mean I should dress like my wife?"  
  
"These are my cooking clothes, not my eating clothes."  
  
"I see. Hey did I tell you that Webb is flying in on a Navy transport?"  
  
"What happened to traveling on the Company?"  
  
"His investigation suffered a major setback. The two guys who were following him were taken into custody and both are dead. Looks like an agency job, too."  
  
"So, we're no closer to solving this?"  
  
"No. When we get to Iraq, we're going to be living in a small apartment building that has two apartments. The Webbs will have one and we'll have the other. I hope the four of us get along because it sounds as if we're going to have lots of togetherness."  
  
"Should I be worried? Elizabeth is a blonde."  
  
"I've only ever fallen in love with brunettes. Webb describes you on a Richter scale."  
  
"Really? I'm flattered, but can he fly a Tomcat?"  
  
"You're good, Mac. I like witty brunettes."  
  
"Good, because I like tall aviators who practice law because the Navy can't afford any more wrecked planes."  
  
"I like Marines who wear comfortable shoes, smell like lavender, and let me look at their, ah, boots."  
  
"Commander Rabb, your book is waiting."  
  
"I could help you cook, " Harm suggests.  
  
"I fly solo when I'm first chair in the kitchen, but you can clean up tonight," she appeases.  
  
Harm kisses her and says, "You drive a hard bargain, Colonel, but sign me up for KP." He leaves the kitchen and heads for the library and the leather couch.  
  
Webb Manor Maryland  
  
Webb hangs up the phone. He's wearing his tuxedo slacks and has his shirt on but hasn't buttoned it yet. He reaches for his cologne and splashes it on his chest. He turns to face the door when he hears a light tapping. "Come in."  
  
Porter Webb, elegantly dresses in a dove gray silk dress, enters the room. "Hello, darling, you need to move a little faster. You've only got forty- five minutes."  
  
"Have you seen Elizabeth, Mother?"  
  
"I have and I must admit that she's a stunning bride, Clayton. That Vera Wang dress fits her like a glove. Oh, to be a size four again!"  
  
"Gee mother, what are you? A huge size six! Oh my!" Webb jokes. "Mother?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can you have Niles send someone out for a few supplies that I need for tomorrow's trip?"  
  
"What do you need, Clayton?"  
  
"Commander Rabb wants a case of peanut M&M's. One pound bags. Then I need you to ask Elizabeth what she can't live without in Iraq and get some of that too."  
  
"Hand me your cell phone, please."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just give it to me." Webb hands her his cell phone and Porter dials the house phone number. "Niles, I need to speak with Mrs. Perkins, please. I'll wait."  
  
She motions to Webb to button his shirt. Webb buttons his shirt and tucks it in. He sits on a chair and puts on his socks. He picks up a pair of black wingtips and inspects them.  
  
"Eleanor? It's Porter calling you from Clayton's room. Listen, Clayton has just realized that there might be a type of food that Elizabeth will miss when they are in Iraq. Can you think of anything that we could make arrangements to have sent along with them? Really? Oh, I see. All right then. Have all of your guests arrived? Does everyone have suitable accommodations? They'll have to stay until at least Tuesday morning. That's fine. Okay. I'll see you in a bit." She presses the off button and smiles at her son, "Peanut butter."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Peanut butter and oatmeal. Her mother says that Betsy loves peanut butter. She also often eats oatmeal for breakfast."  
  
"Cheap date, isn't she?"  
  
"She's the perfect mate for you, Clayton. I'll tell Niles to get you a nice variety of American beers too, speaking of your slum food."  
  
"I just like a nice, plain beer sometimes Mom."  
  
"I know. Mac likes peanut M&M's and Betsy likes peanut butter. Occasionally, I eat a whole box of Fig Newtons. That's what makes the world go round, Clay."  
  
"Any final words of advice, Mother?"  
  
"Be safe. Keep your wits about you, and give me grandchildren."  
  
"Mother, did Dad change diapers?"  
  
"Your father did it all, Clayton."  
  
"Then why didn't you ever have more children?"  
  
"I never was able to conceive again, Clayton. I was thankful to have you."  
  
"I want lots of children, Mother, even if it means quitting the Company."  
  
"You have lots of time to think of those things. We need to be getting downstairs to greet the guests."  
  
"You'll give Niles the list?"  
  
"Yes, now let me tie that tie. Mmm, you smell good."  
  
"That's generally not the comment you like to hear from your mother. You need to date more, Mother."  
  
"Well, once I get my kid out of the house, I may have some fun of my own."  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"Clayton, let's go. Are you using this room tonight?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'll have someone come in and change the linens. Really, Clayton."  
  
The door closes. Clayton Webb and his mother descend the stairs and enter the large living room. Porter greets the Episcopal minister as Clay pumps the hand of his future father-in-law.  
  
"Why aren't you with the women?"  
  
"They kicked me out. I kept asking Betsy if she wanted to back out."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"You wait until it's your daughter." Wayne laughs.  
  
Clayton turns as AJ and Meredith enter. Meredith wears a sapphire blue strapless with sapphire and diamond earrings. Clay finds himself wondering how old she is and begins to calculate that she may be younger than he. He always had assumed that she was near AJ's age but now he's not so sure. Bobbi and Sturgis enter behind the Admiral followed by Bud and Harriet. Harriet is wearing an emerald fitted dress with fitted short sleeves and a scoop neckline. The inverted pleat below the empire waist deemphasizes Harriet's pregnancy. Webb muses that Harriet is wearing green, the color symbolizing fertility. He smiles thinking that Bud, the one who many would think of as the least macho of the men in their crowd, is probably the one who sees the most action. Webb thinks that this marriage thing may be a very good idea Webb notices that Sturgis seems to be very stiff in his actions with Bobbi, much more so than just a week ago at Harm and Mac's wedding.  
  
Porter Webb nods to the musicians and they stop playing. "Please move into the living room so that we may begin the ceremony," Porter announces to the guests. Fewer than thirty people shuffle into the living room and take seats. AJ seats Meredith and then takes his place at Webb's side. AJ whispers, "Don't you have some spook friend to do this for you, Webb?"  
  
"Nobody else has ever broken my nose. You spilled my blood; that makes us blood brothers, AJ."  
  
AJ smiles.  
  
The orchestra begins to play Pachebel's Canon in D and Elizabeth's sister, Madeline, slowly walks down the aisle wearing a peach silk dress and carrying white gardenias and peach roses.  
  
The strings flawlessly transition to the Wedding March and Elizabeth glides down the steps of the foyer on the arm of her father. Elizabeth carries white roses and lily of the valley. Her dress is a sleeveless white silk with a short train. A short veil ends at her elbows. She looks angelic with her blonde hair pulled into a chignon and her peaches and cream complexion glowing in the candlelight of the room. Clay takes her right hand as Wayne offers it to him and tucks it under his arm. Porter stifles a sniff.  
  
The ceremony is beautiful but brief. Within fifteen minutes, the vows have been spoken, the pronouncement has been made, and the kiss has sealed the deal.  
  
Niles appears at the doorway and announces that dinner will be served and the entire group meanders into the dining room.  
  
Sturgis lingers with Bobbi in the foyer and remarks, "So this is how the wealthy live?"  
  
Bobbi smiles at him and says, "What a lovely understated elegant wedding,"  
  
"Does it give you any ideas, Congresswoman?"  
  
"I think about it, Sturgis. I just keep thinking that I'd be giving up my independence and my ambition."  
  
"A man who loves you wouldn't ask you to become something that you're not, would he?"  
  
"The man that I love wants children."  
  
"Yes, he does."  
  
"The man that I love wants his own career in the Navy."  
  
"Yes, he does."  
  
"I want him behind me, behind the scenes."  
  
"He's willing to be behind the scenes, but can't he stand along side you? Many Washington couples are both successful in their own careers."  
  
"I know. I just don't know how to do that. I've always had to dominate,"  
  
"You could let me try, couldn't you?"  
  
"I don't know, Sturgis. I like having things my way. I may never be able to get married. I'm too selfish."  
  
"If you change your mind, you know where I am."  
  
Sturgis offers her his arm and they enter the dining room.  
  
AJ and Meredith exchange a quick look. "What's on your mind, m'lady?" AJ asks.  
  
"I liked that ceremony. This wedding inspires me to simplify ours." Meredith quips.  
  
"I'm all for that, darlin'" AJ murmurs in her ear. "Let's spend the money on the honeymoon."  
  
"Where shall we go? Italy?"  
  
"Been there, done that. I'm thinking Greece."  
  
"Oooh. I like the way you think, AJ," Meredith grins.  
  
"Of course, we could marry in the next six month and visit the Rabbs and the Webbs in Iraq," AJ suggests.  
  
"Not on your life. I'm not spending my honeymoon ducking sniper attacks, not even with a Seal."  
  
Harried sides up to Bud and asks, "Did you know that we have to stay here for two nights? What about little AJ?"  
  
"Yes I knew. I packed more things for you. Your mother said that they'd be fine. She said that you and I should relax and spend the time renewing our relationship."  
  
"My mother said that?"  
  
"She's starting to like me. I'm the stud that keeps siring her grandchildren."  
  
"Bud! That's crass," Harriet jokes.  
  
The balance of the evening is spent observing the hushed tones of upper class elegance. Clayton and Elizabeth visit with their guests; the imported champagne flows freely. Since all of the guests are staying on the grounds, they linger on the first floor of the manor long after the caterers and musicians have left.  
  
Clayton announces that he and Elizabeth are retiring for the night. He explains the accommodations.  
  
"Most of you will be staying for only tonight. Because of my line of work, we wanted you to be as secure as possible. The JAG teams and other administration officials will be here until Monday. Members of Betsy's family will be here until Tuesday. Thank you all for celebrating this day with us. Good night."  
  
Elizabeth and Clay slowly climb the stairs as their guests look on with approval. Porter Webb gets a surprise show of support from Betsy's parents. "We plan for this day for years and then spend the day wondering where the years have gone, don't we?" asks Eleanor.  
  
"Thank you for such a wonderful daughter for my son, Eleanor," Porter compliments. "I am so happy to see him so perfectly matched."  
  
"Porter, if you get lonely in this big old house, you just give us a call. We'll come over and play three-handed pinochle with you," Wayne laughs.  
  
"I think I'd like that." Porter responds.  
  
"You know, I have a cousin. He's a retired economics professor at Georgetown. His wife died last fall. If we ever need a fourth for four- handed," Wayne suggests.  
  
"I'm thinking you might have a plan, Wayne," Porter teases back.  
  
Sturgis slides next to Bobbi and whispers to her, "Are you comfortable with the sleeping arrangements?"  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"I'm not sure, Bobbi."  
  
"We can ask the Admiral and Meredith to buddy up with us on single sex rooms."  
  
"Please don't mention this to him, Bobbi. I'll sleep on the floor before I tell him what's going on," Sturgis says softly. "I just wish you could understand that loving a man doesn't make you less of a woman."  
  
"I wish I could understand it too, Sturgis. I want to lean on you, but I can't."  
  
Sturgis blinks back tears that sting his eyes and turns to look at the artwork lining the hall.  
  
Clayton and Elizabeth enter his bedroom. Clay gently unbuttons the back of her gown. She pulls away from him and enters the bathroom, gently pushing the door closed. He looks at the bed and remembers Harm and Mac. He lowers himself to the floor to look under the bed to check for a bomb. He then enters his closet, pulls out a wand, and sweeps the room for listening devices. Finding none, he quickly undresses to his shorts and hops into bed. Elizabeth emerges from the bathroom with her blond hair brushed out and hanging loose. She's wearing an ivory lace gown. She tosses the matching robe over the chair and walks toward Clayton's outstretched hands. He pulls her to him, scooting over and pulling back the sheets as she enters the bed.  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Webb. Have I told you how much I love you today?"  
  
"You may have, but I have a short attention span," Betsy smiles back at him.  
  
"Then let me show you," Webb answers.  
  
"  
  
"  
  
. 


	12. Chapter 12 Mission Escape

Chapter 12  
  
4 APRIL 2003  
  
1800 ZULU  
  
Scotland  
  
Harmon Rabb, Jr. reaches for a soup spoon and dips it into a stock pot of chowder simmering on the stove. He blows on the soup to cool it and tastes it. He looks up as his wife, Sarah "Mac" Rabb, scurries past and offers her a taste from his spoon. "Mmmm, that's good, Harm," Mac comments.  
  
"How about a kiss for the cook?" Harm suggests. Mac plants a quick kiss on his lips. She spins around and lifts a bowl of salad from the countertop and walks toward the dining room.  
  
"Should I put the dressing on the salad now?" she asks over her shoulder.  
  
"No, we don't know how soon they'll get here and it'd just get soggy. I'm waiting until they get here to put the rolls in the oven. Mix the salad dressing and put it in the refrigerator. Then relax."  
  
"I can't relax. This is our first married dinner party. I want things to be perfect," she explains.  
  
"Webb and Betsy are coming for soup and salad. It's hardly a State Dinner, Mac," Harm comforts patronizingly. Mac glares at him.  
  
"Okay, I'm sorry. If this is important to you, then it's important to me," Harm reassures.  
  
"Thanks, Harm," Mac smiles back at him.  
  
Harm peeks under a dish towel covering a dozen rising pumpernickel rolls. He inhales the yeast smell and smiles at them, "You guys look fabulous and I'll bet you taste even better."  
  
"Harm, are you talking to the rolls?" asks Mac incredulously.  
  
"These are my creations. I love baking bread. I don't often do it, and I'm quite taken with the artistic aspect of it."  
  
"We are going to eat them, Harm, then they are going on an unenviable journey through our digestive systems only to be deposited and flushed," she laughs.  
  
"Were you always so crude, Mac, or has marriage torn down all sense of decorum that you had?" Harm feigns shock at her comments.  
  
"You're just getting to know the real me, the crude jarhead," Mac jokes.  
  
"I think I hear a car. Perhaps our favorite spook has arrived," Harm suggests as he moves toward the kitchen door. "Shall I bring them in this way, or would Madame prefer that they entered through the foyer?" Harm plays the role of the butler.  
  
"I'll give you 'Madame' treatment, flyboy," Mac cajoles.  
  
"Promise?" Harm retorts. "Hey, Webb, c'mon in. Use this door and you can see how it feels to be a commoner!" Harm shouts at Webb.  
  
Harm holds the door open as Elizabeth Webb dashes into the kitchen. Her blonde hair hangs loose about her face as she shakes free of her trench coat which Mac quickly takes from her. Mac smiles as she embraces Betsy and speaks, "I wish we could have been at your wedding last night. I'm sure you were a beautiful bride."  
  
"She was, and is," Webb's voice startles Mac as he and Harm move from the doorway.  
  
"Thank you for your kind words anyway," Betsy smiles. Webb moves next to Betsy and protectively places his hand in the small of her back. Harm reaches to take Betsy's coat from Mac and hangs up both coats on a hook in the mudroom.  
  
Returning to the kitchen, Harm smiles and suggests, "Since we couldn't be there last night, I guess I'll have to kiss the bride now." His eyes twinkle at Webb as Webb suppresses his annoyance. Harm places one hand on each of Betsy's shoulders while Mac peers around Harm's lanky frame to get a look at this kiss. With a sidelong glance at Webb, Harm leans in and chastely kisses Betsy on the cheek. He spins around and winks at Mac.  
  
Mac responds by asking, "Clay, do you have a kiss for me?"  
  
Webb smirks in Harm's direction. "Could I deny my favorite Marine?" He walks over to Mac, takes her in his arms, throws her backward into a dip, and pecks her on the lips. He swings her upright and walks back past Harm without looking at him.  
  
"Gee, Webb, I thought you spy guys were more suave than that," Harm jokes, not willing for Webb to get one up on him.  
  
"Okay, boys. The contest is over," Mac orders. "Besides, I'm hungry. Harm, let's get those rolls into the oven and crack open the wine. Clay, there's a bottle of seltzer in the refrigerator, could you fix a soda and lime for me, please? Betsy, can I get you anything? Do you want me to show you your room now?"  
  
"Oh, after dinner is fine, Mac. I'm fine. This was so thoughtful of you to invite us over. The thought of eating in some hotel restaurant seemed so cold in comparison to having dinner with old friends. At least, I hope I can become a part of your group."  
  
"You already are, Betsy," Harm assures. "You took the spook off the scent of my Marine."  
  
"Clay, I didn't know that you,"  
  
"I didn't. Harm is so insecure that he thought every man who admired Mac was a threat. Everyone who knew them always knew that Mac only had eyes for a certain pilot, everybody but Harm, that is," Webb explains taking a glass of wine from Harm.  
  
"I'm not a pilot, Webb. I'm an aviator. Betsy, he's right. I'm a recently reformed idiot. Your husband made me an offer I couldn't refuse, told me to take a mission where I had to marry Mac. It was the kick in the pants I needed. This mission to Iraq that we all leave on tomorrow was the first domino in the line."  
  
"I guess watching you and Mac tie the knot moved me along in the right direction too, so we're each responsible for the other's bachelorhood demise."  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick. How much longer on those rolls, Harm?" Mac barks.  
  
"Bachelorhood has its place. It's just incomparable to being married to the woman you love," Harm smiles. "Four minutes, honey. Why don't you get the salad dressing while I put the chowder in the tureen?"  
  
"You covered that well, Rabb," Webb laughs. Elizabeth looks perplexed at the bantering between Harm and Mac. Webb notices her puzzlement and explains, "Darling, you have to understand that Harm and Mac are used to verbal sparring. It's part of their relationship; don't be alarmed. They adore each other, don't you guys?"  
  
Mac sighs, "Betsy, Harmon Rabb, Junior is the most exasperating man I have ever met. I had to marry him to get him out of my dreams."  
  
"Now I'm making her dreams come true!" Harm speaks while pulling the rolls out of the oven.  
  
"As well as my nightmares," Mac whispers to Betsy and winks.  
  
"I heard that!" Harm laughs.  
  
The foursome settles around the table in the dining room. Mac had removed three leaves from the table to make the setting more intimate. Harm offers to serve the chowder and they all pass their soup bowls to him. Mac passes the salad along with the dressing. The conversation moves comfortable among the group. Harm and Mac, thrilled for Webb's happiness, make every effort to include Betsy in the conversation. Webb, so clearly smitten with his wife, finds every reason to touch her during the meal. Their hands brush against each other and they follow it with a look. Finally, after serving dessert and coffee, Harm suggests that Mac show the Webbs to their room while he begins cleaning up. Webb objects, "Harm, we can help clean up, really," as he follows Harm into the kitchen while the women look around the house.  
  
"Webb, you two so obviously want to be alone, I can't stand it. Mac and I moved out of the master bedroom so that you can have it. The bed is freshly made up. Just try to keep from making the chandeliers on the first floor swing tonight."  
  
"Oh, and I'm so sure that you and Mac have been so passionless this week!"  
  
"We had a reason for moving out of the master bedroom, you know."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Still had one more bed to try out!" Harm jokes.  
  
"Good night, Commander. I'll see you at breakfast, and thanks, for everything," Webb confides.  
  
"Webb, try to come to breakfast without a stupid look on your face, will you?"  
  
Mac passes Webb as he heads for the stairs and she returns to the kitchen. "Your wife's waiting for you, Clay," she teases.  
  
"And your husband is waiting for you," Webb quips.  
  
"I know, he probably has a dish towel with my name on it," Mac cracks. "Hey sailor, got a job for me?" Mac asks as she enters the kitchen and sees Harm washing the stockpot. She rubs Harm's back with her hand as she snuggles in next to him.  
  
"She's a nice girl, don't you think?" Harm asks.  
  
"I like her, Harm. I thought it would be weird to have Webb with someone, but she's easy to be around. He's obviously in love, don't you think?"  
  
"He's so serious, but I guess he's like that about everything, so why not love? Do you think that we're too flippant? I mean I think Betsy thought we were fighting before dinner," Harm comments.  
  
Mac thinks before answering. "Should we change who we are because we're married? I guess as long as the teasing doesn't become mean or sarcastic, we're okay. By the way, I appreciated the way you toned down your bridal kiss to Betsy."  
  
"I had to pull Webb's chain a little, but I'm not interested in kissing other women, Mac." Harm rinses the pot before wiping his hands on a towel. He turns around with his hips resting against the sink. Mac faces him and leans into him.  
  
"Really?" she flirts.  
  
"I married the most desirable woman in the world. Why would I mess that up? No more misunderstandings, Mac, not when I can help it anyway," he leans into her for a kiss.  
  
"She's younger than I am, and she's a blonde," Mac teases.  
  
"I prefer brunettes with a mean karate chop and big, uh, lungs," Harm teases back.  
  
"Where are we sleeping tonight, sweetie?"  
  
"In the nursery. Single beds!"  
  
"You're kidding, right?"  
  
"No. I'm trying to inspire fertility," Harm comments.  
  
"Harm, are we going to have problems if I don't get pregnant this month? You are so preoccupied with it," Mac whines.  
  
"If you don't get pregnant, we'll have to work harder next month. What man in his right mind would complain about that? Seriously, if my kidding bothers you, I won't bring it up again, okay honey?" Harm cocks his head to look into her eyes.  
  
"I just worry sometimes, Harm. When you read the women's magazines and their statistics about women over thirty-five, well, it's depressing."  
  
"Listen to me, Mac. I know I tease you about a half dozen kids. I really don't care whether we have one or twelve. If we can't have kids ourselves, we'll adopt some who need homes, if you want. As much as I want children, I'd rather no children with you as a wife than a thousand children with any other woman. Do you believe me?"  
  
"Thanks, Harm. I'm just feeling insecure in that area, I guess."  
  
"How can you feel insecure with me around? Haven't I gotten you out of every dangerous dilemma you've ever been in?"  
  
"Here we go. Let's continue this bragging session upstairs, squid."  
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  
  
2330 ZULU  
  
Uptown Manhattan  
  
Francesca Paretti's apartment  
  
Alex clears the table while Francesca sits sipping a glass of white wine. "Can I get you coffee, Francesca?" Alex asks.  
  
"Are you making a pot?" she responds.  
  
"If you want coffee, I will make a pot."  
  
"Are you having coffee, Alex?"  
  
Alex smiles and looks at her with pure devotion. "Francesca, just tell me what you want and stop trying to please me."  
  
"I can't help it. My mother taught me to be solicitous to a man."  
  
Alex shakes his head, walks to the table, and stand behind her chair. He places his hands on her shoulders and begins to massage them. Francesca instinctively reaches up with her arms and pulls Alex's head toward her. He kisses the top of her head and then works his way down one cheek toward her neck. He nuzzles her and whispers, "About that coffee"  
  
Francesca laughs, "Okay, I would love a cup of coffee, Alex. I'll get dessert while you make the coffee."  
  
"It's probably good that I will be cooking for myself the next two weeks. I'm going to be one fat Russian if I keep eating your cooking," Alex muses.  
  
"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, my grandmother always said, " Francesca shoots back.  
  
"How much did your grandfather weigh?"  
  
"My grandmother had his heart, that's for sure,"  
  
"As you have mine," Alex confesses.  
  
"Do I?"  
  
"It's only been a week, Francesca, and I know that things seem passionate and surreal at the beginning of most relationships, but this is different. I love you."  
  
"Then why are you so reluctant to take the next step physically, Alex?"  
  
"Because you are different. What is the rush?"  
  
"Well, it's getting hard with you here and my feelings growing deeper. Most men push for a physical relationship, Alex."  
  
"I'm not most men, Francesca. That's part of what I want you to see about me. You just confirmed that I'm correct about not pushing things. I think this coffee is about ready. What's for dessert?"  
  
"Torte."  
  
"Let's eat out on the terrace."  
  
"Alex, it's a little cold, don't you think?"  
  
"I'll keep you warm. Let's go listen to the city." He takes a tray from the cupboard, places two coffee mugs on it, and takes two dessert plates from Francesca. He carries the tray to the balcony and sets it on the table. He returns to living room, removes a blanket from the back of the couch and pulls Francesca outside. He sits on the balcony floor, wraps the blanket around his shoulders, spreads his legs, and motions for Francesca to sit between his legs. She smiles and complies. He wraps his arms around her and snuggles her in the blanket and then asks, "Are you warm enough?"  
  
"Mmm. This is nice. How do I get my torte and my coffee?"  
  
"That's easy. I feed you. What do you want first?"  
  
"Torte."  
  
Alex takes a fork and stabs a sliver of torte. He brings it to Francesca's mouth and gently inserts the fork into her mouth. Slowly he continues until she finishes her dessert, pausing only to pass her coffee, which she refuses to have him hold for her to sip. When she finishes, he takes a piece of his own dessert as she begins to speak,  
  
"Alex, my mother called me earlier today while you were out running. She wants me to come to Italy next month. I told her about us, well about you, and she wants me to bring you."  
  
"So we'll go to Italy. Let me check with the Embassy to see when I could leave."  
  
"No, I told her that you were too busy and that your Embassy couldn't spare you."  
  
"So, you are going to go alone?" Alex asks worriedly.  
  
"No. I'm not going without you. I just wanted more time with just us. In two weeks, I'm going to Washington to visit you. Then in four weeks, you're coming back here. Then in six weeks, we'll be in Washington."  
  
"Francesca, I understand the schedule. Why did you bring this up?"  
  
"Well, in six weeks, when we're in Washington, my mother is joining us there. I've been trying to work up my nerve to tell you. If I can tell you, then maybe next week-end you can help me tell my father."  
  
"Is that a problem?"  
  
"Well, it will be when my mother thinks she can stay at his house."  
  
"She doesn't know about Meredith, does she?"  
  
"Not exactly. I can't even bring myself to tell her that he got a dog and that it's in the house."  
  
"That's what we'll tell her then. She can't stay with your father because he has a dog."  
  
"Maybe that would work."  
  
"Your father has command of some 800 lawyers, Francesca. Let him figure out how to handle your mother."  
  
"Have you ever wondered how my father is strong enough to deal with Commander Rabb, Alex?"  
  
"Sometimes, why?"  
  
"He was married to my mother first. The Commander has nothing on Marcella. You just wait and see,"  
  
"Another reason for me to be the perfect gentleman around her daughter," Alex pulls her closer to him.  
  
Francesca relaxes in his arms and wonders why this seems such a perfect fit. She's dated men before, dozens, though only two seriously. This man seems as interested in wooing my mind as well as my body, she realizes. "Alex, are you Catholic?" she asks.  
  
"Orthodox. My family practiced even when we had to go underground," he answers.  
  
"Where is your family now?"  
  
"Dead. My sister died when she was twenty-three, my parents died a few years later. I think their hearts were broken."  
  
"What happened to your sister?"  
  
"My sister was very beautiful. She was taken when she was sixteen under the pretext that she would be educated in Moscow. She was put into a brothel for officers' use. She became pregnant and bled to death following a botched abortion."  
  
"Oh, a back alley type of thing?"  
  
"No, at one of Moscow's state of the art hospitals. Can we not talk about it, please?"  
  
"What was her name, Alex?"  
  
"Natasha."  
  
Francesca mulls over Alex's revelation. She turns to him to look into his eyes as she asks the question, "Alex, if I go inside and put on sweats so that I absolutely look shapeless, could we make a bed in front of the fireplace so that I can just sleep next to you all night long? I promise not to attack you."  
  
Alex ponders her question for a few minutes before answering. "Do you also have sweats for me?"  
  
"Uh, probably not that would fit."  
  
"I see. I guess I'll just have to wear pajamas then."  
  
Francesca jumps up and smiles. She takes the tray back into the kitchen and runs to her bedroom. She emerges wearing US Navy sweats. She begins moving the coffee table. She returns to her bedroom to retrieve pillows and two comforters. She efficiently makes up a bed on the floor in front of the gas fireplace. She clicks the remote control and the flame flashes. Alex grabs his bag and removes a pair of thin, cotton pajamas. He closes the door of Francesca's bedroom behind him as he strips and steps into the bottoms. He glances at the top and decides against putting it on. He folds his worn clothing and returns to the living room. The only light in the room is from the fireplace. He joins Francesca by the fire. She looks up as he lowers himself next to her, noticing the finely chiseled muscles of his chest and abdomen. She thinks that she should think of something else, anything else, before she reneges on her promise to behave. "This is not going to be easy," she exhales.  
  
"Sure it is. I snore and drool," Alex jokes.  
  
"Alex, I, I want you to make love to me," she pleads.  
  
"And I want to make love to you, Francesca, but it won't be tonight." Alex tells her gently. "Now back over here and let me hold you."  
  
A part of her wanted to stay where she was, to let him come and get her. The other part complies with his request. To her surprise, her rising passion quickly dissipates as she relaxes to his soft voice telling her stories of growing up in Russia, tales of cousins and their antics. Soon Francesca is sleeping soundly with her head resting on the chest of a Russian army captain.  
  
Alex listens to her soft breathing and wonders why he is being so cautious. He rationalizes that he really doesn't relish the idea of going head to head with her father if things don't work out between them. He also thinks of the KGB and the torture they could inflict upon her if they even thought he might be spying. He knows he isn't a traitor to his country, but these are difficult days in Russian politics. He's entered the political game by requesting this assignment to the States, but he knew when he requested it that it was the only way to see where this relationship with her would lead. He thinks of the seemingly insurmountable odds, the reasons why this relationship couldn't survive the future. First there were their religious differences. He could never become a Roman Catholic. She's not just Catholic; she's Italian Catholic. Didn't the whole church schism start over the Bishop at Rome pulling rank on all the other Bishops? Then there was the future of where to live. This assignment to the Embassy would last, at best, a year, possibly two. Then what? Who cares, a little voice cried out. You'll be tired of her by then. As Alex drifts off to sleep, he dares to let his thoughts run to a future, to marriage, and to children. How can this possibly work, he wonders. He rolls on his side, buries his face in her hair, inhales her scent, and lets himself sleep.  
  
5 APRIL 2003  
  
0700 ZULU  
  
Nursery Bedroom  
  
Harm wakes and attempts to stretch in the too short single bed. He grins as he thinks about the night before but groans when he realizes that he is stiff from sharing this bed with Mac. He looks around for her and realizes that he has overslept, again. He decides to shower and dress before making his way downstairs. Showering and dressing he can do in less than ten minutes, courtesy of the United States Naval Academy.  
  
Kitchen  
  
Webb refills coffee cups for both Betsy and Mac. Betsy rewards him with a smile and a kiss, Mac tells him he'll have to settle for a 'thank you' from her.  
  
"Where is Rabb?" Webb asks.  
  
"He's not a morning person," Mac muses. "He's going to be pretty stiff from sleeping in a single bed."  
  
"Why didn't you take one of the other bedrooms, Mac? He's too tall to be sleeping in a small bed," Betsy asks innocently.  
  
Mac smiles before answering. "Harm's adventurous side got the best of him. He wanted to try sleeping in that room."  
  
"But, honestly, sleeping in separate beds on your honeymoon, that's dumb," Betsy comments.  
  
Mac and Webb exchange knowing glances until Betsy catches on. "You mean you, you" Betsy stutters.  
  
"You know the old song 'Sleeping Double in a Single Bed," Mac jokes.  
  
"Isn't it 'Sleeping Single in a Double Bed?"  
  
"Not for Harm and Mac," Webb quips. "Since Harm cooked last night, what do you say about my cooking this morning?"  
  
Mac looks doubtful, "Can you cook?"  
  
"Sure. What's there to cooking?"  
  
"Clay, honey, you are a man of many talents. Some that I am just beginning to appreciate, but I'd be happy to cook." Betsy suggest.  
  
"Can you cook?"  
  
"My junior year abroad included a course with a chef,"  
  
"What country?" Webb asks suspiciously.  
  
"France."  
  
"Sounds like she's cooking to me," Mac decides.  
  
"I also spent some time in Tuscany," Betsy says as she moves to the refrigerator and takes out the eggs and butter.  
  
Mac smiles as she looks at Webb, "Clay, with any luck, Betsy and Harm can take turns cooking and you and I can just eat while we're in Iraq."  
  
"So we're a tag team, Betsy?" Harm says as he breezes in. He takes a cup from the cupboard, fills it with coffee, and moves to stand behind Mac's chair. "Good morning, Mrs. Rabb," he smiles and kisses her cheek. Mac reaches up and takes his left hand in hers and holds it there as the friendly conversation begins. Betsy, obviously competent in the kitchen, effortlessly prepares a frittata. The group chats as they enjoy coffee while waiting for breakfast to be ready.  
  
The chirping of his cell phone pulls Webb away from the table. He steps into the mudroom as he answers. Harm pauses to listen to Webb's end of the conversation.  
  
"When? How bad? Is there another plane? How soon will that be? I'll be here. Keep me posted." Webb snaps his phone closed and meets Harm's knowing stare. "The good news is that we don't need to hurry through breakfast. The bad news is that our plane just blew up."  
  
"What?" gasps Mac.  
  
"That was our pilot. He was doing his pre-flight inspection when he noticed what appeared to be a scratch in the paint near a vent. He tried to unscrew the vent cover with his screwdriver. When it was the wrong size, he went into the hangar to get another screwdriver, and in that amount of time, the bomb blew. Nobody was hurt, but the Navy can't supply us with another plane until tomorrow." As he spoke, he scribbled a note on a piece of paper and held it up for the group to see. "We will talk outside after breakfast," the note reads.  
  
Webb says, "So Betsy, I guess we'll have Scotland to add to our honeymoon grand tour."  
  
The group continues chattering through breakfast and while cleaning up the kitchen. When they finished washing the last of the dishes, Harm suggests that they walk down to the beach. The group grabs their jackets and walks down and stands on an outcropping of rocks where the sea spray dances around them. Webb and Harm walk away from the women and speak softly to each other. Webb returns to Betsy and stands near her, embracing her in order to whisper softly to her. "Betsy, are you wearing anything new that you didn't have at my mother's house?"  
  
She shakes her head know, and then suddenly, as if remembering, she whispers, "Yes."  
  
"What?" Webb mouths.  
  
She points to the trench coat that she's wearing. Webb motions for her to take it off and she stands shivering in the sea spray. Webb pulls off his own jacket and wraps it around her. He holds up the coat as Harm walks over. The two men expertly inspect the lining of the coat until Webb finds a one inch section of seam that seems to have been repaired. Harm offers Webb his pocketknife and Webb slits the seam exposing a small transmitter. Without speaking, Webb winds his arm to hurl it into the sea when Harm grabs his arm and shakes his head. Instead, Harm takes the receiver from Webb and puts it between two rocks and the group walks away.  
  
"You know that there are probably more," Betsy remarks.  
  
"The house is probably being watched as well. We need a plan to get out of here," Webb orders. In the next half-hour, the four construct a plan to get out of Scotland without tipping off whoever is pursuing them that they've left the country. As they walk back toward the house, Mac remarks that the Academy Award winning performances are about to begin.  
  
Two miles north of the house, a white van is parked while Raven sits inside listening. "We're picking up some time of interference, maybe something got wet. We'll pick them up again when they're in the house."  
  
Entering the house, Webb announces that he's suffering from jet lag and plans to take a nap. "Care to join me, Elizabeth?"  
  
"Sure, Clay. I'm feeling a little tired myself."  
  
"Well, while you guys, um, take a nap, I think we'll take the motorcycle out for a little spin," Harm chimes.  
  
"Before you go, remember that the Navy is sending somebody for our luggage. Just keep an overnight bag for today and tonight," Webb reminds them.  
  
"Harm, I have most things packed but let's go upstairs to check," Mac suggests.  
  
The Rabbs retreat to the nursery and quickly pack three suitcases. They then each pack a backpack with essentials: two changes of underwear, shampoo, toothbrushes, toothpaste, one clean shirt each, clean socks, and a pair of slacks. They each sling their backpacks over their shoulders and deposit one suitcase outside of Webb's bedroom door and carry the other two down to the kitchen to be picked up by the Navy driver. They leave the house, walk to the garage, and Harm starts the motorcycle. Mac inserts one backpack into a saddle bag and keeps the other on her back. She puts on her helmet and climbs behind Harm on the bike. Harm turns the motorcycle north, passes the white van, drives another mile before turning inland, and then turns south on the highway. When the motorcycle passes the van, Charlie asks Raven if he should follow them. "No. We've bigger fish to fry. The officers are out for a joy ride," Raven answers.  
  
At about 1:00 p.m., Webb answers the knock of the Navy driver. He hands him the Rabbs' two suitcases as well as one of his own. "I'll see you in the morning, Petty Officer," he calls as the driver pulls away. As soon as the driver leaves, Webb calls, "Ready for your walk, Betsy?" as she joins him. They each carry a medium duffle bag, one of their own and one belonging to Harm and Mac. They walk toward the beach and enter the boat house. They toss the suitcases into a small sailboat, and Webb expertly turns to the sails into the wind and begins to sail to the south.  
  
Betsy, obviously nervous about sailing in the North Sea in April, asks, "How long do you think it will take, Clay?"  
  
"It's not far, Betsy, just about three miles. We'll be fine as long as we stay close to shore. When Harm and Mac didn't come back, we can be certain that whoever is watching is was to the north of us. I left the radio turned to talk radio in our room. I moved the bug near the radiator so with the steam and the clanging, it will be hard to hear that it's not us. I think we'll have a few hours on them."  
  
In the while van, Charlie addresses Raven again, "There goes the Navy driver. Should we move in now?"  
  
"We'll wait until dark."  
  
"But won't the Marine and the Navy guy be back by then?"  
  
"So we kill four birds with one stone."  
  
Harm and Mac drove south until coming to a small town with a train station. Mac went in and bought two tickets for Edinburgh and they boarded the train and made the trip. When they reached Edinburgh, they quickly changed clothes in the restrooms at the train station. Harm bought tickets in a sleeper car for London, using a CIA credit card Webb had given him. They quickly boarded the overnight train, found their compartment, and settled in for the night.  
  
Meanwhile, the Webbs continued to sail south until Webb noticed a stone manor house with what appeared to be an old man standing on the dock. "This is it, Betsy. There's the man."  
  
"Clay, that's just some poor old man standing on his dock."  
  
"My mother says that he's an old friend to can be trusted. I'm lowering the sail and using the motor to take her in."  
  
"What's this guy's name?"  
  
"David. That's all she would tell me."  
  
The old man, wearing a wet suit, motions for them to bring the boat into the dock. He helps Elizabeth out of the boat and grabs the suitcases that Webb hands up to him. He then boards the boat, puts some odd contraption on the throttle, waves Webb off the boat, and places the boat in gear. He begins to head out to sea when Webb sees him jump off the stern of the boat and swim back to the dock. After he pulls himself up out of the water, the three watch the sailboat explode.  
  
"That takes care of that, doesn't it?" David says.  
  
"Have them send the bill to me in care of the CIA," Webb insists.  
  
"It's my boat; there will be no bill. No bill; no trace," David quips.  
  
Webb looks at him before responding. "Then how much do I owe you?"  
  
David smiles at Webb and gestures for them to follow him to the house. As they walk, David offers Betsy his arm, "My dear, have you seen pictures of Clayton's father? What little your husband lacks in physical resemblance to his father he more than compensates for in his mannerisms."  
  
"So you knew my father?"  
  
David stops and pivots before looking at Webb. "Your father stole your mother's heart from me. Yes, I knew your father."  
  
"Is that why my mother said I could trust you? Because you were in love with her once?"  
  
"Your parents and I were colleagues. I owe them my life; a small sailboat is an insignificant price to pay for a forty-five year friendship. Before you ask more questions, I'm not going to tell you more about the past. I will tell you how I am going to get you two out of Scotland and into England and then from England to Iraq. From what your mother told me and from what I've been able to gather, you are being pursued by someone who has access to your schedule, Clayton. You need to go under the radar in your actions or soon or later, your good luck is going to expire." They reach the manor house and he invites them in. "In the dining room, you will find your dinner on the buffet. Please help yourselves while I change. My driver is going to drive us to London. You can meet your friends there."  
  
Clay and Betsy eat their meal in silence as they tried to absorb the solemnity that David's contacts suspected that this cat and mouse game was from someone in the CIA. Webb mentally reviews his co-workers and his interactions for clues as to who might have a grudge with him. Within two hours of their arrival, they join David in the rear seat of his Rolls Royce and are being driven to London. Betsy rests her head on Webb's shoulder and is soon asleep. Webb, his mind shifted into overdrive, stares at his host, wondering about his past and his present. Finally, his curiosity will not be denied, "Are you married?"  
  
David smiles, "I was. She died before Christmas last year."  
  
"Does my mother know that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you still have feelings for my mother?"  
  
"If I did, wouldn't that be between your mother and me?"  
  
Webb smiles. In spite of himself, he likes this septuagenarian and his wit. "Well, for whatever it's worth, I'm sure my mother will be very lonely while I'm in Iraq."  
  
"Are you asking me to court her?"  
  
"I just think she'd appreciate a friend, especially one that seems to know her so well," Webb smiles.  
  
"I think that first we will make certain that you arrive in Iraq."  
  
"We, sir?"  
  
"Your mother and I make a formidable team."  
  
"So you are working on this together?"  
  
David smiles at Webb. Webb's mind begins to spin. Had his mother taken any trips since December? He had been so busy with his own schedule and his banishment to South America that he wonders.  
  
"Clayton, stop trying to figure this out. Your mother will tell you what she wants you to know," David interrupts Webb's reverie. Webb relaxes. He knows he can trust his mother; his mother trusts David. For the first time in weeks, Webb settles himself and clears his mind, letting someone else worry for him. David smiles at him, thankful that Porter came to him for help. He thought he could tolerate Clay because he was Porter's son. He never planned to like him; now he thinks that he does like him. He's stiff like his father, David muses, but when he looks at his wife, he sees the tender heart of Porter. I'll keep him as safe as I can, Porter, David thinks as the Rolls races toward London.  
  
Betsy wakes as they enter the outskirts of London. She smiles at her husband's sleeping form and then notices David's watchful gaze. She hears him instruct the driver to stay on the back roads. "Elizabeth, my dear, it's time to wake your husband. I have news that you'll both want to hear," David speaks softly to her.  
  
Webb, hearing voices, lifts his head to listen to David.  
  
"Glad you are awake, Clayton. We are going to a small airport where my plane is waiting. I've arranged for a pilot, some friend of your Commander Rabb, to fly you to Kuwait City. From there, you'll go "in country" with the troops. Your wife and I will find the Rabbs at the train station. You will stay at the airport with the pilot. Too many people are looking for you, Mr. Webb; you cannot risk being seen in London. You will be interested to know that the house in Scotland where you were staying has been ransacked."  
  
"When?" Webb grunts.  
  
"At midnight last night. It's only a matter of time before they realize that London holds the most options for leaving the UK. They will be checking all flight plans filed for mid-East countries."  
  
"They won't check this flight plan?"  
  
"Of course they will. This flight will have five passengers rather than the four that they are searching for and this flight is leaving for Naples, Italy. Then you'll be flying on a Navy transport to the Persian Gulf. The Navy will take you the rest of the way. I will conclude my business in Naples and return to my life of reading the classics in Scotland."  
  
"You're going with us?"  
  
"Just as far as Naples. You may have to layover there for one night while we adjust some of your pilot's paperwork. He obviously will not be flying as the Navy commander that he is. We had to get creative with his identity papers. I believe he's a Canadian for our purposes. Do not indicate that you know him until we are in the air. Here we are now and there's my Lear."  
  
The car pulls up to the plane and Webb emerges first and is ushered to the plane. He notices the pilot doing his pre-flight inspection and realizes that the man looks familiar but can't come up with a name. He notices that the galley has scones and fresh fruit. He pours himself coffee and watches the Rolls drive away, hoping that David and Betsy can find Harm and Mac quickly.  
  
6 April 2003 0700 ZULU  
  
Harm stands near a newsstand in London's train station, keeping watch over his wife who is seated in a waiting area. He insisted that they split up since anyone searching for them would probably look for a couple. He thinks about the previous night in the cramped quarters of the berthing compartment and the night before that spent sleeping in a single bed. He prays that their bed in Iraq will allow him to extend his frame fully in order to eliminate the constant crick in his neck. He doesn't notice when a willowy brunette approaches him and begins to rub against his arm. He instinctively draws away until he hears a familiar voice whisper, "Harm, just play along that you're a weary traveler in need of companionship. We're going for a walk," she purrs.  
  
"Betsy!" Harm thinks and almost laughs aloud, blowing her cover. Classy, brainy Betsy trying to pick him up like a common prostitute is ironic. Where's Webb? He immediately thinks. His eyes dart around the station and protectively back toward Mac when he sees an elderly gentleman engaging Mac in conversation.  
  
"Where's Webb?" he whispers lovingly into Betsy's ear.  
  
"Not here. David will get Mac," she assures Harm.  
  
"David? All I see is some old geezer who looks like he's asking Mac for directions to the bathroom," Harm persists.  
  
Betsy steals a look back to the waiting area where Mac is seated. "That's David, now kiss me quick," she pulls Harm into a steamy embrace as a group of men dressed in suits with earpieces in their ears move down the concourse before splitting up.  
  
"Sorry, Harm, but we can't be too careful. I'm sure the Company has agents looking for you, good agents and bad ones."  
  
"Just explain that kiss to my wife if she saw it. Have you considered a career in the theatre?" Harm jokes.  
  
"No. Let's get out of here. The car is waiting in the taxi area," she says urging him toward an exit. A waiting chauffer quickly opens the door as Betsy and Harm dive into the back seat. The driver slowly pulls away from the curb.  
  
"What about Mac?" Harm shouts.  
  
"We'll go back for her and David. Trust me, Harm." The car makes its way through traffic to a country road and ends up at the small airport where David's jet awaits. The driver pulls to a stop and Harm opens his door. He spots Webb standing at the top of the stairs of the plane. Webb motions for him to come aboard. Harm reaches to help Betsy out of the car but instead, Betsy pushes his hand away and tells him, "I'm going back for Mac and David. Stay with Clay."  
  
Harm reluctantly climbs the stairs to the plane and shakes hands with Webb. "Glad to see you made it. I'll feel better when Mac's here. What's the plan from here? Who's this David?"  
  
Webb rakes his hand through his hair. "You're not going to believe it."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"My mother told me to take a small sailboat and sail south about three miles to a stone manor house with a three slip boat garage. This old guy was waiting for us on the dock. That's David."  
  
"David who?"  
  
"I have no idea. He's an old friend of my parents. Apparently at one time he was quite close with my mother."  
  
"That's a little creepy, isn't it?"  
  
"Normally it would be, but this guy is pretty cool. He slipped into a wet suit, took the boat out a little ways, jumped off, and blew it up. He swam a good half mile back to us at the dock. He fed us and then put us in the back of that Rolls and brought us here. He and my mother have concocted a scheme to take us from here to Naples. We'll have to stay out of sight for a day or so then the Navy is flying us to Kuwait City. From there we're going to Basra."  
  
"Whose plane is this?"  
  
"David's."  
  
"Who's flying it?"  
  
"I haven't met him yet. I haven't been allowed outside and he's been outside doing his visual. Besides, David told me not to talk to him. Someone might think I recognize him. You're the only Navy pilot with a commander rank that I know."  
  
Harm looks out the window as the pilot ducks under the wing. "Well, I'd know that backside anywhere," Harm quips.  
  
"What are you talking about, Rabb?"  
  
"I'll wait in the cockpit. It's okay, Webb. We're as safe as we can be as along as you don't mind flying with the USNA Class of '85."  
  
"Please don't tell me this is one of your cronies."  
  
"A crony of yours and of mine. That's Jack Keeter. He must be on loan to the CIA again."  
  
"I don't think so. Mother and David are leaving the Company out of this."  
  
"How would they have known to get Keeter? Never mind, I know how they got him."  
  
"How?"  
  
They spoke in unison "The Admiral."  
  
Within the hour, the Rolls pulls up outside the plane for the last time. Betsy, Mac, and David bound out of the car and up the stairs to the plane. Displaying strength that belies his age, David pulls the hatch closed as Keeter revs the engines with Harm sitting in the co-pilot's seat next to him. Mac walks forward to the cockpit and touches Harm's back to let him know that she is fine. Harm glances over one shoulder at her and grins as he and Keeter bark at each other in pilot code. "We're clear for take-off, Jack."  
  
"Let's do it, Hammer."  
  
"Mac, you need to be fastened in. We'll talk later."  
  
Mac returns to the cabin, sits, and fastens her seatbelt. The others follow her lead as Jack Keeter's joking voice breaks over the public address system, "Ladies and Gentlemen, The Honeymoon Express has just been cleared for take off. Any beautiful brides who have tired of their substandard husbands can be assured that their Captain is more than capable of handling any of their wants, needs, or desires upon arrival in Naples. Sit back and enjoy your flight."  
  
Once they are at cruising altitude, Harm leaves the cockpit to check the passengers. Webb introduces David to Harm and motions for Harm to sit down. David mentions, "I need to update you on our plans once we arrive in Italy."  
  
Webb and Harm exchange glances and then focus on David.  
  
"Commander Keeter is flying unofficially right now. He's technically still on leave. Your admiral tracked him down on a beach in the Keys and got him to fly to London. He'll be landing us at the Navy base. The admiral has arranged clearance with some friend of his there. That keeps us out of Customs and notification to our respective State Departments. It makes it much more difficult for whoever is following you, Clayton. Anyway, Keeter will need to report for duty and it may be a few days before he is cleared to fly you to Kuwait."  
  
"Where will we stay? On the base? That's a little risky when there are five of us. That will call attention to us" Webb interrupts.  
  
"Correction, Clayton. There will only be four of you. I remind you that I will be returning to Scotland," David explains. "Actually, you will not be staying on the base. We've arranged private accommodations with the mother of a friend of the Commander."  
  
"Who would that be?" Harm asks, confused.  
  
"Marcella Paretti,"  
  
Mac's eyes open wide as she repeats, "Marcella Paretti? As in Francesca's mother?"  
  
"The same. Apparently she has a roomy villa that is very private."  
  
"Does the Admiral know?" Harm asks incredulously.  
  
"I believe that your Admiral made the arrangements." David answers solemnly.  
  
"This is going to be one interesting stay in old Napoli," Harm laughs. 


End file.
